Compliments Of Your Waitress Lyrics & Chords By Chumbawamba
The day drags on and stumbles
I'm far too tired to smile
From the kitchen to the tables
I must've walked a thousand miles
The man at table number seven
He's not where he wanted to be
He's far too tired, or he's just been fired,
So he takes it all out on me
Takes it all out on me
Pretty young couple in the corner
With much too much to say
They don't like a thing that I bring them,
And they send it all away
They look in my eyes when I apologise
Say they want it all for free
They've got the guilt of easy money,
and they take it all out on me
Take it all out on me
The dignity of labour
It never rang true to me
Where's the pride in the nine to five
And the crook of the bended knee?
And a man wants my telephone number
So drunk he can hardly see
And I know in the haze of rejection
That he'll take it all out on me
Take it all out on me
So take advice from a girl who knows
The next time you complain
There's a hallway from the kitchen
Where I know I can't be seen
That's where I flavour the food I bring you:
Your steaks and your soups and your stew
Compliments of your waitress
I can take it all out on you
Take it all out on you.
Tracks related to compliments of your waitress - chumbawamba
More From Album: The Boy Bands Have Won, And All The Copyists And The Tribute Bands And The Tv Talent Show Producers Have Won, If We Allow Our Culture To Be Shaped By Mimicry, Whether From Lack Of Ideas Or From Exaggerated Respect. You Should Never Try To Freeze Culture. What You Can Do Is Recycle That Culture. Take Your Older Brother's Hand-me-down Jacket And Re-style It, Re-fashion It To The Point Where It Becomes Your Own. But Don't Just Regurgitate Creative History, Or Hold Art And Music And Literature As Fixed, Untouchable And Kept Under Glass. The People Who Try To 'guard' Any Particular Form Of Music Are, Like The Copyists And Manufactured Bands, Doing It The Worst Disservice, Because The Only Thing That You Can Do To Music That Will Damage It Is Not Change It, Not Make It Your Own. Because Then It Dies, Then It's Over, Then It's Done, And The Boy Bands Have Won.
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