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 Laksa

I dabbled in Tom Chad Goong for a while
But it lacks a laksa's lackadaisical style
Consommé can cope in a shrouded tureen
But a laksa's at home
In a crowded street scene
Just hold on tight and don't wear white

My favourite place to go
When I'm down on my luck is a wee
Malay cafe where they do a good laksa
The price is right, the decor's shite
And don't wear white

The waitress comes to me
No expression on her face
Could be fire inside
A serene chilly surface
She's mild despite my wild delight
But don't wear white

Oo laksa, for thrills and spills
It's superlative du jour
Oo laksa, for all your ills
This hot broth'll have the cure
'Cos I'll be sculling the dregs
'Til I sweat like gelignite
Lips tingling in the afterglow
Of a sacred fishy rite
Just hold on tight and don't wear white

A marbled lava lake
Blood from Jack Pollock's toe
Upon a tofu shore
Creamy tides ebb and flow
The prawns invite a tender bite
So don't wear white

Pasta shiatsu pats you
With long floppy fingers
A canoodling spoonful
So pungently lingers
Attain new height in taste bud flight
And don't wear white

If you like your dining
With moaning and whining
If you want me to stay
Don't take my broth away

©Mal Webb 2000

Chords:
Intro: II: F7  I Ab7  I C  I E7  :II x2 F7  I E7  I
Riff: II: F#7sus E7sus I A7sus F#7sus :II
Verse1: II: F#7sus E7sus I A7sus F#7sus I F#7sus E7sus I A7sus Eb7#9 I
              I D7 E7 I D7 Ab7 I G7 F#9 I F7 E7 :II
Ch: II: F7  I Ab7  I C  I E7  :II x3 F7  I E7  I
Riff: II: F#7sus E7sus I A7sus F#7sus :II
Verse2: II: F#7sus E7sus I A7sus F#7sus I F#7sus E7sus I A7sus Eb7#9 I
              I D7 E7 I D7 Ab7 I G7 F#9 I F7 E7 :II
Ch: II: F7  I Ab7  I C  I E7  :II x4 F7  I E7  I
Riff: II: F#7sus E7sus I A7sus F#7sus :II finish on last chord.

For those who don't know ( and can't quite glean it from the lyrics), a Laksa is a coconut cream curry noodle soup originating in Malaysia. (Tom Chud Goong is the Thai equivalent). It is near impossible to eat one without wearing a little of it home with you (hence the line). The only other thing that may need a note is the Jackson Pollock line. Legend has it that when working on Blue Poles, he smashed a wine glass on the canvas and then walked on it (youch!). I've always found that the swirling chilli red oil patterns on a Laksa's surface casts my mind to that image.