Chris Two

When I say 'screw you', It makes my troubles light, there's so much more to do, do all chefs die intestate, however much they lie, throwing venom at the plates, explosive screams at menus, they face some terrible high, a frightened kitchen crew, tear around this place, don't tell me how to cry, anchors bind my feet, someone has the truth, debts roll from my eyes, no longer am I duped, wouldn't it be great, to feel a love inside, instead of all this rage, a place beyond the dunes, lying near the tide, will it bear me fruit , or hang me out to dry?