Flux Fluid Fixation Lyrics

Arriving early, the opening hour.
Raiding straws from the condiment station.
I disappear into the bathroom stall.
My handwritten sign taped to the door.
This one reserved for me.
Door is locked.
Alone for hours, waiting, fixating.
The first arrives, I listen close as my ear is pressed to the wall.
Dripping fluids, passing gas, solids fill the bowl.
I hope and pray, after they spray, they don't flush it away.
And with my wish awaits my dish as they leave me my gourmet.
I sneak on out, hit my knees, my straws firm in hand.
A glorious pile for me to feast, I slurp all that I can.
Back to my stall, I sit and wait for my next meal left unflushed.
Imagining flavor and textures formed as my meal leaves their butts.