Breakfast


Hold the milk, put back the sugar
They are powerless to console
We've gathered here to sprinkle ashes
From our late friend's cereal bowl
Breakfast clubbers, say the motto
That he taught us to repeat:
"You will lose it in your gym class
If you wait 'till noon to eat
"

Back when the chess club said our eggs were soft
Every morning he'd say grace and hold our juice aloft
Oh, none of us knew his check-out time would come so soon
But before his brain stopped waving, he'd composed this tune:

"When the toast is burned and all the milk has turned
And Captain Crunch is waving farewell
When the big one finds you, may this song remind you
That they don't serve breakfast in hell"

Breakfast clubbers, drop your hankies
Though to some our friend was odd
That day he bought those pine pajamas
His check was good with God

Those here without the Lord, how do you cope?
This morning we don't mourn like those who have no hope
Rise up, Fruit Loop lovers, sing out sweet & low
With spoons held high, we bid our brother 'Cheerio'

When the toast is burned and all the milk has turned
And Captain Crunch is waving farewell
When the big one finds you, may this song remind you
That they don't serve breakfast in hell

Recorded by the Newsboys.  Lyrics by Steve Taylor.

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