Saturday, 3 September 2011


There was a British chap, his name was Martyn.
he said the life with his wife made him a martyr.
To punish himself even more
he became a chef – what a bore.
He should know better. And be smarter.

There was Anna, this very classy girl.
She loved the vintage art, and her hair was curled.
She ended up in the kitchen,
(you do not go there to freshen),
oh merciful God, now she must twirl and whirl.

Anton, the man who knew lot of stuff -
though you were never sure what’s true and what’s bluff.
He was a chef most of his life
(poor, poor, poor his lovely wife).
Fortunately he was still sweet – not rough.

There was a lady, Bettina was her name.
She wanted a restaurant – no one is to blame.
On the very first day the disaster struck,
and on the second too, on the third as well.
But that brave women was still in the game.

There was this guy… I mean myself,
I wasn’t really sure if I’m a dwarf or elf.
One day I was unemployed,
felt like living in the void,
then I became a chef, should I kill myself?

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