Angel Food

If the mattress was a table top
And the bed sheet was a page
We'd be written out
Like a couple of question marks
My convex to your concave

And we'd be lying here
At the end of a sentence
That asks are you ready now?
Are you gonna glow in the dark?
Are you gonna show me how?

Do you like to watch
When water misbehaves?
Do you like waves?
As the wind shifts and shifts again

The sail smiles
And gently slaps around the mast
Ballast, ballast, ballast

When you come to me
Come to me with cake
In your pocket
Come to me nicely

With that soft kinda cake
That's mostly icing
Come to me ready and rude
Bring me angel food
Angel food