| Hold the milk, put back the sugar |
| They are powerless to console |
| We’ve gathered here to sprinkle ashes |
| from our late friend’s cereal bowl. |
| Breakfast Clubbers, say the motto |
| that he taught us to repeat: |
| «You will lose it in your gym class |
| if you wait `til noon to eat.» |
| Back when the Chess Club said our eggs were soft |
| every Monday he’d say grace and hold our juice aloft |
| Oh, none of us knew his checkout time would come so soon |
| But before his brain stopped waving, he composed this tune: |
| When the toast is burned |
| And all the milk has turned |
| And Captain Crunch is waving farewell |
| When the big one finds you |
| May this song remind you |
| That they don’t serve breakfast in hell |
| Breakfast clubbers, drop the hankies. |
| Though to some our friend was odd, |
| that day he bought those pine pajamas |
| his check was good with God. |
| Those here without the Lord, |
| how do you cope? |
| For this morning we don’t mourn |
| like those who have no hope |
| Oh, rise up, Fruit Loop lovers — |
| sing out sweet &low |
| With spoons held high |
| we bid our brother, «Cheerio!» |
| Lyrics: Steve Taylor / Music: Peter Furler |
| © 1996 Dawn Treader Music (SESAC) / Warner Alliance Music / Soylent Tunes |
| (ASCAP), Dawn Treader Music admin. by EMI Christian Music Publishing. |
| Warner Alliance Music / Soylent Tunes admin. by I.C.G. |