“Nothing can save us now, except coffee” Gun Roswell

On the edge, or a tall order

When that specific mood hits
And you are standing on the ledge
Close enough to jump
Take that one final plunge
In good or bad the need of courage
Is like eating a bowl of too hot porridge
Some say it just may
Be that of a one too tall order
Alas a savior at hand
Just there, were, you stand
A tall glass of the darkest of liquids
Will never let you quit