When I woke up this morning,
I had a craving,
A yearning and a needin’ for crispy squares,
I had the waffle blues.
So I fired up the iron,
Cracked the eggs,
Grabbed my blue corn waffle mix,
And got to cooking.
Well, that iron started sizzling,
I started drooling,
Smells of sweet vanilla,
It was heaven on a skillet, I swear.
That little orange light blinked,
And I whipped open that lid,
plopped my blue corn waffle on a plate,
and started chewing before the butter had melted.
And chewed some more…
Until tears splattered my syrup.
Oh the agony!
Oh the injustice!
Oh the pain!
For these waffles were not waffly at all,
They were just plain.
There was no crisp sweetness,
No syrup soaked goodness,
No blue corn tastiness,
No deliciousness of any sort.
So here I sit,
With a cold waffle iron,
And a plate of blue waffles,
That not even Bear would touch.
I got the blues,
the blue corn waffle blues.
I’ll sit here with my syrup,
And sing the blues all night long…
I got the waffle blues.
Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! We have a new Friday Five mañana!
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