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