Saphie Four

Since you've been away, I don't know what to do, but each night pray, you’ll break the maddened stone, I’ll finish it for you, no one’s still at home, to keep the time of day, see what makes it true, nothing more to say, you always have to smoke, somehow play the fool, laugh like a bag of stones, the walls have turned grey, Gin is not my ruin, you've eaten all the cake, confined within this space, there’s little more to sew, gilded as a fallen flake, we ride the joy of praise, see the creep of moon, our horizons fall away, take them as our due.

Saphie Three

Working here's no paradise, it only takes two, to steer an edgy spike, but it could be great stars and sea like glue, stardust on our plate, all we need is better light, show what we can do, to save us from the fire, our songs still resonate, no feeling like the Blues, gone is a better place, this district is our life, dances for me and you, naked transport lights, doesn’t matter how late, we sing with kitchen crews, we won’t hesitate, give us easy nights, where we catch what’s new, even in the way we slide, way outside the loop.

Saphie Two

You appear stoned, your picture up in lights, or written on a wall. if love holds true, I know the bells to strike, because I know each part of you, tell me you're not alone, no matter how we fight, or beat our yellow bones, you are not for fools, pretty before your time, fighting off the blues, you scream down a ‘phone, say there is no paradise, a flame not at home, for all your talent reviews, dreams pass out of sight, wind blows a cold truth, clouds ride black and bold, across an autumn fire, you sing less to atone, than finish with desire.

Saphie

When you see a fading star, does it make you uneasy, knowing it’s not that far, with children and dogs, just stay as you please, in a warm hazy fog, send my ship to Mars, to the sea of tranquillity, or bear the scars, is that what you want, forget cups of tea, and all the stuff you don't, put water in my font, all your fares increase, what the hell's going on, I'm like someone from afar, a bended knee, scraping on the tar, play Blues in a boxcar, scatter all my needs, put my ashes on the bar, bring me peace.

Adam

I cook like Marcel Duchamp, and walk with weary gait, scent of my cologne is damp, bring cognac to my table, send dishes by measured paces, feed my gorgon frame, am not someone to look upon, swaying like a knave, singing out what I’ve done, unshaven waiters, in this cafe', often watch me faint, women before me unmoved, with buttered hair on trains, talk of what’s above, creating is what I crave, kitchens are lonely places, my uncertain forays, begin from the urinal, that's really my fame, this place a caravan, to carry my name.

Chris Three

Windows paint strokes, against the falling rain, shocked again I'm broke, echoes of an empty surfeit, another sad holiday, it’s no news to me, at St Anthony’s stone, loss brings no certainty, when you need a loan, songs of a dismal choice, pose lonely sad trains, that whistle and moan, to beg again, with love gone on plates, or down the Freeway, it marks my bones, shadows of the infirmary, circle my zones, I'm a generous soul, reclaimed from this cafe', and like to joke, when I get paid.

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?