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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. |
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