Well he came one day, morning rush had died away and the clock was ticking just past noon
Had the devil in his eye and his blood was made of rye and he jangled out of focus into view
Well he sat down at the table and he gave a look to Mable and a smile on his face a-slowly spread
“Aint no need for a menu, didn’t mean to offend you” – And this is what that crazy fucker said…
More pork sausages – I want more pork sausages
More pork sausages – I want more pork sausages
More pork sausages – I want more pork sausages
More pork sausages – I want more pork sausages
I want four bloody Marys and a tray of Rangoon crepes
A pot of steaming coffee and a pair of fruited grapes
I’ll take a chopped up lemon and a phone to make my calls
It’s a psychic anchor, I love breakfast best of all
Some corned beef hash with some chiles diced and fine
And an eight ball of cocaine busted up into some lines
I need a large Spanish omelette and a slice of key lime pie
And a pocket full of amyls just in case I up and die
Gimmie half a pound of bacon and the Sunday New York Times
I’ll need all my mail and messages to muddle while I dine
I need a notebook for planning and some tunes to fill my head
I’ll eat the whole thing naked and then I’ll stumble back to bed – but first…
More pork sausages – I want more pork sausages
More pork sausages – I want more pork sausages
More pork sausages – I want more pork sausages
More pork sausages – I want more pork sausages