Hold the milk, put back the sugar They are powerless to console We've gathered here to sprinkle ashes From our late friend's cereal bowl.
Breakfast Clubbers, say the motto That he taught us to repeat: “You will lose it in your gym class if you wait til noon to eat”.
Back when the Chess Club, said our eggs were soft Every Monday he'd say grace and hold our juice aloft Oh, none of us knew his checkout time would come so soon But before his brain stopped waving He composed this tune:
Chorus: When The Toast Is Burned And All The Milk Has Turned And Captain Crunch Is Waving Farewell When The Big One Finds You May This Song Remind You That They Don'T Serve Breafast In Hell
Breakfast clubbers, drop the hankies Though to some our friend was odd, That day he bought those pine pyjamas His check was good with God
Those here without the lord, How do you cope? For this morning we don't mourn Like those who have no hope
Oh rise up, Fruit Loop lovers- Sing out sweet and low With spoons held high We bid our brother “Cheerio!"