The Fiery Furnaces - A Candymaker's Knife in My Handbag lyrics

A night out in the tropics Turned out I couldn't cope After the School of Fancy Cookery With 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 very 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 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 the 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 With 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