The New Restaurant
I stopped into a restaurant and oh, it was a dream!
From a half mile up the highway you could see the fixtures gleam.
They heated up the coffee cups with extra pressure steam,
But the food was terrible.
The waitresses were charming, they had such lovely eyes,
Their smiles all matched exactly and their uniforms likewise,
Their hair was piled as sweetly as the topping on the pies,
But the food was terrible.
The décor was a symphony in orange, gold and white,
The silver and the crockery would fill you with delight,
The menu was a masterpiece, so witty and so bright,
But the food was terrible.
They must have spent a fortune on the furniture and such,
On the place mats and the napkins, just like linen to the touch,
So the budget for the kitchen really wasn't very much,
And the food was terrible.
Another generation will forget the taste of meat,
Of tomatoes from the garden and of bread that's made of wheat,
And they'll never even notice, when it's plastic that they eat,
That the food is terrible.
O Novo Restaurante
Entrei em um restaurante e, nossa, era um sonho!
A uma meia milha na estrada, dava pra ver o brilho do salão.
Eles aqueciam as xícaras de café com vapor sob pressão,
Mas a comida era uma droga.
As garçonetes eram um charme, tinham olhos tão bonitos,
Os sorrisos combinavam direitinho e os uniformes, idênticos,
Os cabelos estavam arrumados como a cobertura dos bolos,
Mas a comida era uma droga.
A decoração era uma sinfonia em laranja, ouro e branco,
A prata e a louça te deixavam cheio de encanto,
O cardápio era uma obra-prima, tão esperto e tão brilhante,
Mas a comida era uma droga.
Devem ter gastado uma fortuna com os móveis e tal,
Com os jogos americanos e os guardanapos, como linho ao tocar,
Então o orçamento da cozinha não era lá essas coisas,
E a comida era uma droga.
Outra geração vai esquecer o gosto da carne,
Dos tomates do jardim e do pão feito de trigo,
E nem vão perceber, quando comerem plástico,
Que a comida é uma droga.
Composição: Malvina Reynolds