~{Chef Boy I’m Lonely}~
.
If youre looking to dine,
My open sign-
Might shed a little light.
Bring your opinion and-
Stop on by-
Lemme get dat 1 thru 5.
Survey time,
Im cool with being criticized.
.
Keeping appetizers-
At my bedside cuz-
Im terrified-
Youll change ur mind-
While u metabolize.
Then not stick around-
For the entree.
.
Whats the probability-
You would think about testing-
Any recipes all devised by yours truly?
If you stay the night with me,
Then ill fry us up french toast-
Sliced thicker than Texas,
You oughta try my breakfast!
.
As you’re reaching for your keys-
(you can go when u wanna)
Im about to bring out course 3-
(wont take it personal)
To see you smiling so lovely-
(let me box that up for ya)
At a plate but never at me.
.
You-
Said you would have went home-
(things you should be doing)
Hours ago,
(catch up on tv shows)
Yet since my food still fills the table-
(hang out til ur not hungry)
Well for now im not alone.
.
So...
What would pair-
Perfectly with brunch?
Im thinkin of fixing us-
A love potion disguised as fruit punch.
We’ll know when weve had enough-
When we feel that breath-
Collapse in our lungs.
Youve slipped ur shneekers on,
But now you feel no reason to...
Rush!
.
I was hoping ud be fond-
Of my menu font,
All my friends keep flaking on me-
Like crispy croissants.
I made brown gravy for my baby,
The potatoes were mashed-
Never came;
It all went in the trash.
.
Fault was all mine,
Get back on that grind.
Break out a cookbook,
Bend that bind-
Until it tastes just right-
Call it why-
You wont be leaving next time.
.
Eyeballs red and wide-
As if i had cried.
Choppin up onions,
Wonderin why-
You’ve got a new guy-
Serving you trays-
Of what you most crave.
.
Whats the probability-
You would think about testing-
Any recipes all devised by yours truly?
If you stay the night with me,
Then ill fry us up french toast-
Sliced thicker than Texas,
You oughta try my breakfast!-
.
No?
Okay well...
That’s fine i guess-
Wait!
Theres one more plate.
I fillet my beating heart-
Then i grill both sides until its charred,
Brush a glaze thats made with tears in place of salt.
.
Mmm, mm, m,
Ain’t that shit scrumptious!
.
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