The smell of freshly fried chips
Fills the room as I walk through the door
As the soda machine slowly drips.
The toddler drops his taco on the floor
As I carefully select what tacos I desire,
With all the action happening there is no bore
Such as the grill being lit by the fire
And the chicken strip getting a bit crispy
By the sizzling grease of the frier.
All the frat boys walk in a little tipsy
Looking to resolve their post-party cravings
but all of these sounds don't phase me
Because the only thing I'm thinking
Is how I'm going to attack this massive
Fried chicken and queso dripping
Taco that is an Austin native.
I guide the taco to my mouth with finesse
Probably looking super unattractive
But that warm, savory taste truly is the best
So I begin to lick off the rest of the queso
Then I say, my face still a mess,
Wow, that really is a “damn good taco”