One Dollar Coffee

from by The Football Club



I’m a mess as I catch the train from Preston to the City,
It’s too early for a piece of shit like me to be awake.
I grab a seat beside two junkies playing tonsil hockey,
Six live mice inside her hoody drinking Diet Coke out of her hand.

A heavily accented, disembodied, female voice
Comes loud and far from clear over the speaker system stating that there
Might be some delay, some bastard threw themselves onto the tracks
The businessmen and women sigh and check their phones and watches

God, I don’t even know you.

Two more junkies sit down with them, chill - I’m feeling like a victim still
I shift and shudder in my seat until they all get off at Clifton Hill.
My eyes are getting heavy as I reach my destination,
I get off at Flinders Street to buy some coffee from a service station.

I can not drink it though I’m trynna, but then I’m hit with a reminder
That there’s a subtle taste of roaches in the coffee grinder
It smells like vomit, and I cannot bear to swallow more
But guess I can't complain, man - I got what I paid a dollar for.

God, I don’t even know you.

I go outside, and then I come back home
But when I wake up, I don’t feel so alone.
You are waiting at my door.
And you say.

God, I don’t even know you


from The Football Club (EP), released November 18, 2015



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The Football Club Footscray, Australia

The Football Club are a folk-punk band from Footscray. They sing sad songs with big drunken choruses and heaped mouthfuls of words, telling stories on topics like sexuality, gender, friendship, and cheap red wine.

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