Breakfast At The French Hotel

It’s the start of my day, I’m on my way

Down to my favorite café.

It’s at the bottom of the hill and I can drink my fill

Of cappuccino or mocha or latte.

I’ll be standin’ in line out in the sunshine

Watchin’ Angel makin’ ‘em one at a time.

It’s always clear I am welcome here

For breakfast at the French Hotel.

It starts about seven, goes on ‘till ‘bout eleven

The people they come and they go.

Some are just hangin’ out, some hung over no doubt,

And most of them start real slow.

But by the end of a cup they begin to perk up,

The conversation starts to flow.

And with your eyes half glazed you may be amazed

At what some of them think that they know.

It’s just a little cafe by the side of the street

Where some young folks and some old geezers meet.

Get something to drink, get something to eat

And have your breakfast at the French Hotel.

It's the morning crowd, I think for cryin’ out loud

Where did all these old hippies come from?

They get the caffeine fit, but they wouldn’t trade it

For no life in the corporate humdrum.

So take a look around, share some common ground

With people who won’t let life let ‘em down.

Settle back in your chair, you ain’t goin’ nowhere

During breakfast at the French Hotel.

There’s a music man pickin’ on a guitar

There's a sea captain who has sailed afar.

There’s a plumber, a masseuse, a computer geek

And a fellow who knows all about antiques.

You might audition for a music club,

Get some legal advice or a great back rub,

Get your problems shrunk, or get some thinking thunk

Over breakfast at the French Hotel.

It’s just a little cafe by the side of the street

Where some young folks and some old geezers meet.

Get something to drink, get something to eat

And have your breakfast at the French Hotel.

Well you might go back for a second cup,

It seems the thing to do.

But that second scone, I would leave it alone

If I were you.

Just relax and watch the team at the espresso machine

Fixin’ whatever fits folks’ morning routine.

And you’ve got to admit it’s a pretty good scene

At breakfast at the French Hotel.

I can fritter away a good part of the day

Down at my favorite café.

After my morning walk I can sit and talk

And feel my troubles lift and drift away.

So pull up a chair, you’ll be welcome there.

Sit down and rest a spell.

Get your daily share of attitude repair

At breakfast at the French Hotel.

It’s just a little cafe by the side of the street

Where some young folks and some old geezers meet.

Get something to drink, get something to eat

And have breakfast at the French Hotel.

(c) Tom Bruce 2011