Restaurants these days
Are a bit of a variable treat,
Not there to boost chef's ego,
I've only come to eat.
As I look around I realise
I'm in the wrong place
Not here for Nouveau Cuisine
I've only come to fill my face.
Looking at the food before me
At times can cause me trouble
A half cooked pretty picture
Served on a bit of builders rubble.
I can go to a gallery if
I want to see a work of art
And the prices that they charge
Is enough to break a heart.
I'm just a working man,
A very ordinary bloke,
Who doesn't see the point
Of the Fine Dining joke.
I don't get the mystique
Even just a little bit,
Food is just a fuel
To keep a body tuned and fit.
There are so many variables
In life's little lottery
So serve me cooked food on
Dish washed sterile pottery.
Salmonella I think is
Just a risk too far
So I vote with me feet
And go to a Burger Bar.
