by Un'Anima Persa » Tuesday 2 May 2006 3:42:42am
Facades and Charades
Excuse me sir,
What do you order?
Surely established,
A fine velour suit.
You sat down in front.
Best hurry, choose.
The show starts soon...
Why thank you waiter,
And might I add,
That your watch is just dashing.
White gold, I suppose.
You must know your fashion.
What would you choose,
If you were me
And I was you?
Why, thank you, kind gentleman.
Now if I were you,
And you were me,
The finest would no longer,
A fantasy be.
I'd order the best.
Fresh lobster,
Smoked salmon.
I'd eat and eat more,
The restaurant would be famined.
And after my dinner,
Bloated and drunk,
I'd buy a new suit,
Some luxuries,
A tux.
I'd find me a wife,
And wed her that night.
A fling, to extreme.
But surely worthwhile.
I'd wake up the next morn,
See what I'd done,
But her love would be more,
A beauty in the sun...
So I'd do her again,
And again.
And again.
Then I'd toss her aside,
Because I'd be that kind of guy.
And so, kind sir,
That's what I'd do
If you were me,
And I was you.
That's appalling, waiter.
I do have a wife!
And I love her dearly.
We've three kids; I've a life!
This suit that you speak of, it's only a fake.
I was hoping for a night,
That respect I could take.
We live in the slums.
An apartment,
Good sized,
We're a middle class family,
Not a bunch of snobby guys.
I'm a human being, and your 'wife' would be, too.
So piss off, Mr. Waiter, our conversation is through.
The man in his suit,
Promptly left.
Went home to his wife,
And gave her his best.
He promised never to leave her,
And was true to his words;
This man never left.
Now as for the waiter,
That cruel old man.
He found himself sulking,
His head in his hands.
He sat by a picture,
Of a beautiful lass,
The one who he'd screwed,
When he was younger,
As his story goes,
"She had a nice ass..."
And so just like his story,
He shoved her aside...
Bad move, sonny boy..
She sued his ass.
And his lot she had won,
Oh so rightfully... Leaving that filth
With the label of scum
And so from then on,
He worked as a waiter,
For he expensive bistro.
Wallowing in what he was,
What he couldve been...
Facades and Charades
Excuse me sir,
What do you order?
Surely established,
A fine velour suit.
You sat down in front.
Best hurry, choose.
The show starts soon...
Why thank you waiter,
And might I add,
That your watch is just dashing.
White gold, I suppose.
You must know your fashion.
What would you choose,
If you were me
And I was you?
Why, thank you, kind gentleman.
Now if I were you,
And you were me,
The finest would no longer,
A fantasy be.
I'd order the best.
Fresh lobster,
Smoked salmon.
I'd eat and eat more,
The restaurant would be famined.
And after my dinner,
Bloated and drunk,
I'd buy a new suit,
Some luxuries,
A tux.
I'd find me a wife,
And wed her that night.
A fling, to extreme.
But surely worthwhile.
I'd wake up the next morn,
See what I'd done,
But her love would be more,
A beauty in the sun...
So I'd do her again,
And again.
And again.
Then I'd toss her aside,
Because I'd be that kind of guy.
And so, kind sir,
That's what I'd do
If you were me,
And I was you.
That's appalling, waiter.
I do have a wife!
And I love her dearly.
We've three kids; I've a life!
This suit that you speak of, it's only a fake.
I was hoping for a night,
That respect I could take.
We live in the slums.
An apartment,
Good sized,
We're a middle class family,
Not a bunch of snobby guys.
I'm a human being, and your 'wife' would be, too.
So piss off, Mr. Waiter, our conversation is through.
The man in his suit,
Promptly left.
Went home to his wife,
And gave her his best.
He promised never to leave her,
And was true to his words;
This man never left.
Now as for the waiter,
That cruel old man.
He found himself sulking,
His head in his hands.
He sat by a picture,
Of a beautiful lass,
The one who he'd screwed,
When he was younger,
As his story goes,
"She had a nice ass..."
And so just like his story,
He shoved her aside...
Bad move, sonny boy..
She sued his ass.
And his lot she had won,
Oh so rightfully... Leaving that filth
With the label of scum
And so from then on,
He worked as a waiter,
For he expensive bistro.
Wallowing in what he was,
What he couldve been...
There are more like him,
There are more dirty, more scum.
And then there are more,
Who like some dinner with their rum.
But always remember the man in the suit,
The man with the wife
And the children
Whom he would salute.
The man with the love,
And the kindess and caring
The man that was proud
Of the suit he was wearing.
The man who simply wanted respect,
The man who was always straightforward, direct.
So when you have found your Mr. Waiter,
Remember, my friend, that sooner or later,
You'll find you a man in a fake velour suit,
And he'll love you,
And cherish you...
Until death do you part.
So just look for your man...
In that fake velour suit.