Sandler Adam

Sandler Adam - Lunchlady Land guitar tab

The lyrics are inside the CD, but here they are anyway..

Lunchlady Land

Woke up in the morning

Put on my new plastic glove

Served some reheated salisbury steak

With a little slice of love

Got no clue what the chicken pot pie is made of

Just know everything's doing fine

Down here in Lunchlady Land

Well I wear this net on my head

'Cause my red hair is fallin'out

I wear these brown orthopedic shoes

'Cause I got a bad case of the gout

I know you want seconds on the corndogs

But there's not reason to shout

Everybody gets enough food

Down here in Lunchlady Land

Well yesterday's meatloaf is today's sloppy joes

And my breath reeks of tuna

And there's lots of black hairs coming out of my nose

In Lunchlady Land your dreams come true

Clouds made of carrots and peas

Mountains built of shepherds pie

And rivers made of macaroni and cheese

But don't forget to return your trays

And try to ignore my gum disease

No student can escape the magic of

Lunchlady Land

Hoagies and grinders, hoagies and grinders

Hoagies and grinders, hoagies and grinders

Navy beans, navy beans, navy beans

Hoagies and grinder, hoagies and grinders

Navy beans, navy beans

Meatloaf sandwich

Sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Well I dreamt one morning

That I woke up to see

All the pepperoni pizza

Was a-looking at me

It screamed, why do you burn me

And serve me up cold

I said I got the spatula

Just do what you're told

Then the liver and onions

Started joining the fight

And the chop suey slapped me

And it kicked me in the head

It's called revenge Lunchlady

Said the garlic bread

I said what did I do

To make you all so mad

They said you got flabby arms

And your breath is bad

Then the green beans said

You better run and hide

But then my friend sloppy joe came

And joined my side

He said if it wasn't for the Lunchlady

The kids wouldn't eatcha

You should be shakin' her hand

And sayin' please to meet ya

She gives you a purpose

And she gives you a goal

You should be kissin' her feet

And kissin' her mole

Now all the angry foods

Just leave me alone

And we all live together

In a happy home

Thanks to

Sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Well me and sloppy joe got married

We got six kids and we're doin' just fine

Down in Lunchlady Land

--

Coni Warren

velveeta@primenet.com

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

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