frank the cannoli guy.

Some lyrics for a snowy morning (maybe one day I’ll put the song up).

This morning on my jaunt, to my only coffee shop

I happened on my favorite passerby.

He’s so easy to spot- on Brady Street every day,

His presence warms my heart, I don’t know why.

Some will call him predictable, and others will say he’s pedantic,

But when he looks on straight at me, and says “you want some cannoli?”

It’s truly nothing shy of romantic.

He’s Frank, the cannoli guy.

Serving Italian baked goods until he dies.

Oh Frank, who knows where I’d be,

Without your delicacy.

Oh Frank, you work so hard! You must be so sore.

I know it must be tough being urban folklore.

But where would Milwaukee be, without your amazing cannoli?

When I’m wasted at three in the morn?

He’s Frank, the cannoli guy

Fist pumpin’ at Jo Cats, I saw him try.

Oh Frank, with things how they be-

Your cannoli is extacy.

You know Frank, he makes the ladies stare.

In a cashmere sweater, pomade in his hair

But he’s still, just one of the guys

All standards he defies.

Oh Frank, I know this affair may just be momentary.

But your company and your cannoli, they are extraordinary.

Our times together, I’ll just have to cherish.

I’ll be an East Side hipster until I perish.

You know I’d die without C-A-N-N-O-L-I.

You know Frank, he’s the modern man.

He’s curing world hunger with a divine plan.

About Frank, you know I’d never lie

He’s really a heck of a guy.

Here’s to Frank, a guy you should meet,

He’s the prince of Wisconsin, king of Brady Street

Oh Frank, who knows where I’d be

Without your delicacy.

Oh Frank. Thanks for the dance.

I’m sorry I threw up in your bake shop’s plants.

It’s just, you are too sweet.

And an awful great guy to meet.


One response to “frank the cannoli guy.

  1. I heart it. Also, E-C-S-T-A-C-Y 😉

    Poetry knows no spelling.

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