Once again, the events in this song are ficticious. Mostly. Though the rugby team were soundly defeated by the CQ's most seriously overheated curries....
Come from work and come from leisure (lee-zhur)
If excitment is your pleasure,
If you won't go out for pizza,
Come into the Curry Queen.
If hot food is what you're cravin'
No throat lining's worth the savin'
If your stomach's got you ravin'
Come into the Curry Queen.
Working late to meet a deadline, coding heard 'til we were beat,
Staggered out to greet the midnight, growling stomachs said we eat.
No one fancied ord'ring pizza, chippy closed at half past ten,
Chinese takeaway was shut so Indian we'd eat again.
CHORUS
Made it to familiar comfort of those flock-wallpapered walls.
Sat in splendour, now relaxing as we heard the curry's calls.
Looked around at other patrons, saw the rugby club come in,
Heard them order house's hottest, didn't let them see us grin.
Waited 'til the waiters served them, watched them as they took a bite,
Watched them quickly turning purple, running out into the night.
CHORUS
Got the curried food inside us, Korma, rice, and Keemun Nan,
Started feeling much more lively, less like zombie, more like man.
Started doodling on the napkins, thinking how our code could fly,
Paid the bill and fell to talking over tricks that we could try.
Stepped outside out curry saviour, sucking one last peppermint.
Went straight back to work to start another twenty hour stint.
CHORUS