| I can cook a little
|
| But it’s not a lot to shout about
|
| It’s kinda mean cuisine
|
| So, I eat out
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| Hey, they know me at the Greek and the Chink
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| And the Italian and the Indian, too
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| And they all say
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| «Here comes that sad American man again
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| What are we gonna do?»
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| Well you can put me at the table
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| In the corner in the back
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| Unless you got one in a telephone booth
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| I’m here and I’m alone again
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| It’s sad but it’s the truth
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| No, I’m not expecting anyone
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| Is that beyond belief
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| Give me the menu
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| Take away the candle
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| Never mind the aperitif
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| They got a couple of couples
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| A trio and a foursome
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| They even got a party of eight
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| I’m getting that look
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| I wish I’d brought a book
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| Better yet, I wish I’d already ate
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| Ooh, don’t you know that’s impolite
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| What’s the matter with you people
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| Your telling jokes and your holding hands
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| And you’re talking with your mouth’s full
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| Well the waiter comes up and he asks me
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| «How it is Sir, is everything alright?»
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| The foods fine but I feel like a fool
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| 'Cause I’m eating alone tonight
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| Don’t say I was here at all
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| What would all my loved-one's think
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| I’ll take the check, no sweet, no coffee
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| No after dinner drink
|
| I can cook a little
|
| But it’s not a lot to shout about
|
| It’s kinda mean cuisine
|
| So, I eat out |