MadCap Posted August 4, 2013 Share Posted August 4, 2013 "Chefs Lament" I’m Tired I’m beat I have pains inside my feet. My spirits weary My breath is short, But still I write you this report. All night long the Wrong food goes out, This makes me want to scream and shout, The servers say their sorry And now I know its true ‘cause next they serve a Crème brûlée, instead of Irish stew. The métier Dee says “Don’t worry, it will all be over soonâ€, And even as he says this I want to kick him to the moon. I spend most my life Inside these walls To cook and stress and sweat I don’t know why I do it I must have lost a bet. So for now I say, good naben Adios, auf Wiedersehen. I’ll see you in the morning Or my names not Chef Lane. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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