Welcome to the Caf Shabu
Permit me to introduce you to some of our regulars
Starting on my immediate left, ladies and gentlemen
Here in Caf Shabu
You'll note a poet, a man of words by trade
And yes, that's a refugee from an unnamed political philosophy
Come here to spread his message of joy and peace amongst us
Thank you very much, sir
Over here, next to him, we see a lady
Who has traded in, a lifestyle of the rich and famous
For work with underprivileged and exceptional children
Which I am sure, makes her very pleased with herself
Ladies and gentlemen, sitting next to her
A man of letters, and words, and moods
A man who spent most of his life, deceiving himself
And now, finds himself facing six years in rehabilitation
Prison, and a death sentence on the outside
Sitting next to him, on a banquette, a ballerina
She's had two grapes, a raisin, and a chicklet, and she's full
In fact, she's been stuffed for years
Next to her, are two spinsters
Knitting their way, in and out of various predicaments
Coloured by the excesses of their ancestors
And close by them, some surreal painter's
Brooding over the very over-emphasis of colour-violence
Violence on the blue end of the scale
Next to them, two off-duty detectives
Checking each other out, next door to the sugarholics
See them shivering, see them staring into the distance
See them growing, oh, see them go comatose, Insulin please, Matre D'
On my immediate right, several politicians, smiling lizard-like
See them assure themselves that their status is indeed quo
Rip up the cheques, said the Matre D', see if I care
I do this for the company, I've got no-one to trust any secrets to but myself
In the basement, in the vault, in the attic on the walls
Are the pictures I take in part-payment for my time
And the waitress reminds you that in the back room bathed in red
Glowing with the speed of light
That reflects the demands of the living for the dead, are our angels
A host at your service to meet your every need
So, order up, the waitress said, our great caf serves everything