Boy: Some enchanted lunchtime You may see a stranger Someone you don't know yet Drinking her juice alone (he gets up from his seat, going towards her
Here's the story Of a sliced baloney A loaf of bread A lettuce and some cheese That were stored In the refrigerator Food: Where all we did was freeze
Okay folks, enough with the gay jokes, Especially from a gay broke bitch yourself, aye Lok? His style is dodo, You've worked here longer then me, and
Pre this was originally on the olga -- this is my version based on that. Sorry I've lost the original author credit. Thanks to babysnakes@webtv.net (
So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you? I know you don't listen to me 'Cause you say you see straight through me, don't you?
Lunch Will Keep Us Together Lunch, lunch will keep us together There?s no meal that?s better Just give me a fork and a spoon Its almost noon Make me
I look good, always, but especially today Professionally fresh on display like hey Take a picture, its not a dream I'm flat out gorgeous Maybe its because
Drivers in the taxicabs. People live their roles. Thirty-five cents. Throw it in the toll. They don't know they're paying what is stealing all their food
You roll your eyes To say the least I'm all alone and I feel That you can't be a part of this And now you run for These empty lights These empty waves
I was standing in line, I was biding my time I was watchin' a clock on the wall And it was two minutes till lunch, so I got good and ready Just then I
Pretty raw with it Cute sushi lunches Nineteen steps from out Under your feet Can't eat, won't eat Have have not me Can't eat, won't eat Cute sushi lunches
Instrumental
I see it all through my window it seems, Never failing, like millions of bees. Pull out the drawer, no time to be won, Only to do, what can be done.
And I Was thinking About the things you said to me Was it all just a lie anyway? You know that I'll try to be The best that I can be If it's not good
I've got the urge and soul to go I've got the green for my juice-ride spent time in sad machines I've got my kicks on Orleans time the clock went dead
It's not black enough to see where any white is So I'll wait another hour for you and your designer jeans And I remember you as heartless as a freeway
That must be her again She's leaning on my bell That cold psychotic brain The one I know so well So I'm nailed to the floor in the no-option zone There
Lowell george (dialog) Jimmy carl black (dialog) Roy estrada (dialog) Bunk gardner (dialog) Don preston (dialog) Motorhead sherwood (dialog) Ian underwood