this is how it is
no dramatic scenes
you read your morning paper
i read my magazine
happy weatherman
says we need the rain
but i don't know what he's thinking
it's been coming down for days
and this brew is just too bitter
too strong for me to drink
gonna pour it down the drain right now
right down the kitchen sink
cold coffee in my cup
you turn the tv up
breakfast at our house
and this is how it is
and it's no easy trick
we can promise what we want to
but we can't make it stick
half a life ago
with this ring we wed
and now we're sittinâ?? at this table
with the things we never said
but to come right out and say 'em
would be rude and out of place
so I'll keep it to myself I guess
but it's written all across your face
burnt toast and offerings
that's what the morning brings
breakfast at our house
so here's to all the young boys, to all the fair haired 
girls
who ran away on honeymoons, who married in a whirl
whose pretty bed of roses feels like a bed of coals
who sit at breakfast tables and stare into their bowls
who had their dreams of love, but now they're waking up
breakfast at our house
cold coffee in my cup, you turn the tv up
breakfast at our house