Acropolis, Now!
Whenever I am hungry and I'm near Park Avenue, I listen to my stomach and it tells me what
to do, and it draws me to where there's donair in the air, and thousands of bazookies play
acropolis adieu.
Welcome to my restaurant Sauthentic Ligric.
My name is Popa Topolos, but you can call me Nick.
You'll be glad when you've had what is in this pita bread.
I hope you don't mind garlic or it's going to make you sick.
I am not very picky, sooflacky and sadzicky, and a dessert of sticky goo.
And when I want to lose oh, all of my worried blues oh, I'll have a round up oozo too.
My clients find bazookie music always cast a spell, and though it's unfamiliar they like
it very well, though it's not to my taste, so no money always.
I only have one tape but with Greek music, who can tell?
Sometimes Nick will use the language of his native land.
You'll hear him shouting orders out, or are they reprimands, who can tell what he yells
at his anxious personnel.
It's just as well his customers will never understand.
The donors rich and creamy, no one stares each time you slurp, and there's so much food
upon your plate, you'll eat until you hurt.
You can sit, you can grin while it dribbles down your chin, and you'll remember eating
it every time you burp.
Thank you.