The Breakfast Conspiracy lyrics
by Pigface



gonna tell you a story; some kind of a breakfast conspiracybreakfast in bed, sir?breakfast in bed, sir?ah, no thanks, not todayin fact, I'd far rather be sitting in a distinctly upright positionso that I may at least have the ghost of a chance to digestwhat I don't mind telling you- is completely inedible sloplovingly and habitually prepared and served bythe thugs and vagabonds who are the so-called staff of this institutionfinished with the menu, sir?finished with the menu, sir?finished with the menu, sir?finished with the menu, sir?yes, yes, I shall enjoy soft cakes, toast, tea, scrambled eggs,strawberry jam...mind you, I can't complain, before I came here I thoughtscrambled eggs were supposed to be brown and crispy at the bottomand dull yellow at the topmy mother, god bless her, cannot boil a fuckin kettlewithout burnin the water insideWhen I came here it's a different story, you know, oh yes,a whole different deck of cards...scrambled eggs arrive with the consistency of a moth swimming aboutin a foul yellow liquid- I wonder where that came from?I would like to put forth my theory, my own inside story, if you will,you wanted to know what I think?I think that every morning as we sleepour beloved kitchen staff gathers around the scrambled eggslike some pagan cult offering homage to a false iconfirst, the head chef, the cult leader, ritualistically stands on aninstitutional chair, opens the fly of hisinstitutional trousers, pulls out hisinstitutional willy, and urinates in our breakfast.HA HA HA!they're just a bunch of loonies, what do they care?half the bloody time they end up throwing it on the floor,or worse still, at each other...