A Candymaker's Knife In My Handbag - The Fiery Furnaces

A night out in the tropics

Turned out I couldn’t cope

After the «School of Fancy Cookery»

By Antoinette Pope

I learned brazing and saucing, meringue and sift

Knead, flute and flour

Each Thursday for an hour

Cobblers and plum cakes, tarts savory and sweet

A candymaker’s knife in my handbag

A candymaker’s knife in my handbag

Well I learned brazing and saucing, meringue and sift

Knead, flute and flour

Each Thursday for an hour

Cobblers and plum cakes, tarts savory and sweet

A candymaker’s knife in my handbag

A candymaker’s knife in my handbag

That night I was to meet my husband’s father, for the first time

I wore the scarf he sent to me

French silk, scarlet blue and cream

He sits, he waits, a coffee on his knee

I wonder if it’s as bad as it might seem

Zapped by the Zombie

Zapped, zapped by the Zombie

Zapped by the Zombie in the two-door Dodge

Twice-baked brioche and danish pastry pockets

And lock its two-door Dodge

Zapped by the Zombie

Zapped, zapped by the Zombie

Zapped by the Zombie in the two-door Dodge

And I did not fail

To bust off a nail as the Dodge door handle dodges my hand

Delicate, delicate hold my hand

Delicate nectarine upside-down chiffon cake

Dodge down the downtown loop the loop lightly

Hazelnut baby loaves

Hazelnut baby loaves

Hold my hand inside-out upside-down marzipan Milanese

My brain is a blur

Hodge-podge — cardinal slice — two-door, brand new

What am I gonna do

'Cause on the street the amber lights were hellish hot

And the wind in the windows was not giving air

And tropical Napeolons

But it was too late and I didn’t care

And I didn’t care

Because first I went to meet Dr. Christopolous and his wife Claudette

Who at that time was my close girlfriend

They picked my up in their brand new Dodge

And we went to Trader Vic’s, or Mr. Rick’s

And I ordered, like the others, a Zombie

And it bombed me, it just bombed me

And when we got to the stoop my father-in-law said «Were you attacked?»

My aunt, being helpful, said something that made my heart just go sunk

And with a look on her face like something had stunk

«She's just drunk!»

she hissed

I reached for the arm of the armchair and missed

A night out in the tropics

Turned out I couldn’t cope

After the «School of Fancy Cookery»

By Antoinette Pope

I wore the scarf he sent to me

French silk, scarlet blue and cream

He sits, he waits, a coffee on his knee

I wonder if it’s as bad as it might seem