Breakfast at the Figaro

Merchants, lawyers, artists and producers
Every man’s a poet seated in section A
At this time of day
She’s filling them up and she’s filling the coffee cups
She glides around every eye attempting not to stare
No we don’t care
Ooh Marie
How can I say something new to you?
Ooh Marie
How can I say something new to you?
Tuesday, thursday mornings in the same place
She knows the names of all the regulars
And greets them all with perfect poise
They know her walk and which perfume she wears
How she does her hair accordingly
She serves them all a sweet sweet smile
Oh but always the same smile
Ooh Marie
How can I say something new to you?
Ooh Marie
How can I say something new to you?
One by one they always come
They bring their gifts and notes of love
But she looks so unshaken and calm
Everyone can plainly see
Marie smiling apathetically
She says nothing more as she sighs
She never bats an eye
Ooh Marie
How can I say something new to you?
Ooh Marie
How can I say something new to you?