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Sunday

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লিরিক্স
Straight back and to the left

Pick up those f**king eggs

We're out of milk

Who took my rye bread

Four waters to table seven

I'm sorry we don't deliver on

Sunday I need table two for three yesterday

Is there a list

Harrington Harrington

Kaplan K- A- P- L- A- N for seven

Order

No I'm sorry those people were here first

We don't have tables for seven

Are we in smoking

Tension

I'll have the salad

Niçoise and some challah bread

Balance

I said I wanted an omlette

With no yokes that's why you're just a waiter

Brunch

Sunday in the blue silver chromimum diner

On the green purple yellow red stools

Sit the fools

Who should eat at home

Instead they pay on Sunday

For a cool orange juice or a bagel

On the soft green cylindrical stools

Sit the fools

Drinking cinammon coffee

Or decaffinated tea

Forever

In the blue silver chromimum diner

Drips the green orange violet drool

From the fools

Who'd pay less at home

Drinking coffee light

And dark

And cholesterol

And bums bums bums bums bums

Bums bums bums bums

People screaming for their toast

In a small Soho café

On an island in two rivers

On an ordinary Sunday

Sunday

Sunday

Brunch