When I'm at a restaurant
And I order a plate of carbonara
And the waiter asks, standing proud with his parmesan
"Would you like some cheese on your pasta?"
I tell him "Good sir,
It's the other way around
The cheese always comes first,
And in it, I will drown."
He raises an eyebrow, shakes his head a bit
"Alright, tell me when," he sighs.
And then unfolds a peculiar skit
Before the entire restaurant's eyes
He sprinkles my plate with cheese
Until parmesan waves crash on the plate's shore
Then he stops and glances at me
I lift my chin and tell him "More."
He takes his parmesan and adds some more
Cheese crumbs spill onto the floor
He takes a deep breath, a wild look in his eye
And asks, "Ma'am, are you sure?"
I bang my fist down on the cheese-covered table,
"Give me my cheese," I bellow
With a horrified look, the waiter obliges,
Because he's a good fellow.
We're ankle-deep
In a cheesy heaven
And everyone is thinking
"What is wrong with this woman?"
Soon the floods of cheese
Are reaching our mouths
I will give the waiter no reprieve
Until I find the meaning of pouth
The cheese reaches the ceiling
Oh what a deluge I have unleashed
And what a fantastic feeling
To be drowning in cheese
The walls bend under the cheese's pressure
Suddenly they burst, and the restaurant explodes,
People may have died, but it was for the better
As we all rise to paradise in this cheesy motherlode
Amidst the ruins of a world long gone
Cheese still pours like water from a fountain
And below a towering mountain of parmesan
Rises my weakened voice to say "When."
