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The Phantom of the Sandwich Shop

a musical

Through salamis he spoke to me
With pickles he rang
Those hands that understood my stomach pangs
And now I dream of subs
That don’t taste like shoes
The Phantom of the Sandwich Shop is here with me
And brings me cheese
That’s blue.

Slowly, softly bake until it’s tender
Don’t forget to pay the bread roll vendor
Turn your thoughts from olives and clams
Wash your hands before touching hams
And wear your hairnet
Even though it’s not cool.

Angel of salt and vinegar, you don’t need to hide
My strange sandwich angel
Even now you’re beside me.

Let your tastebuds journey to a delicious new world
Leave all memories of the sandwiches you knew before
This perfect mouthfeel is where you long to be
Only then can you technically be free.

In this land of knives and forks
Where spinach reigns
The Phantom of the Sandwich Shop is here
Inside my brain.

Past the point where rolls grow mold
No second chances
The soup we reheated ten times is now no good
Avocados brown
And lettuce covered in slime
No use eating.

Written by

Engaged in inadvisable wordsmitheries and other creative acts.

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