I Eat Out - Loudon Wainwright III

I can cook a little

But it’s not a lot to shout about

It’s kinda mean cuisine

So, I eat out

Hey, they know me at the Greek and the Chink

And the Italian and the Indian, too

And they all say

«Here comes that sad American man again

What are we gonna do?»

Well you can put me at the table

In the corner in the back

Unless you got one in a telephone booth

I’m here and I’m alone again

It’s sad but it’s the truth

No, I’m not expecting anyone

Is that beyond belief

Give me the menu

Take away the candle

Never mind the aperitif

They got a couple of couples

A trio and a foursome

They even got a party of eight

I’m getting that look

I wish I’d brought a book

Better yet, I wish I’d already ate

Ooh, don’t you know that’s impolite

What’s the matter with you people

Your telling jokes and your holding hands

And you’re talking with your mouth’s full

Well the waiter comes up and he asks me

«How it is Sir, is everything alright?»

The foods fine but I feel like a fool

'Cause I’m eating alone tonight

Don’t say I was here at all

What would all my loved-one's think

I’ll take the check, no sweet, no coffee

No after dinner drink

I can cook a little

But it’s not a lot to shout about

It’s kinda mean cuisine

So, I eat out