Gonna tell you a story; some kind of a breakfast conspiracy
Breakfast in bed, sir?
Breakfast in bed, sir?
Ah, no thanks, not today
In fact, I’d far rather be sitting in a distinctly upright position
So that I may at least have the ghost of a chance to digest
What I don’t mind telling you- is completely inedible slop
Lovingly and habitually prepared and served by
The thugs and vagabonds who are the so-called staff of this institution
Finished with the menu, sir?
Finished with the menu, sir?
Finished with the menu, sir?
Finished with the menu, sir?
Yes, yes, I shall enjoy soft cakes, toast, tea, scrambled eggs,
Strawberry jam…
Mind you, I can’t complain, before I came here I thought
Scrambled eggs were supposed to be brown and crispy at the bottom
And dull yellow at the top
My mother, god bless her, cannot boil a fuckin kettle
Without burnin the water inside
When I came here it’s a different story, you know, oh yes,
