It's not far, I can walk
Down the block to Table Talk
I close my eyes
And make the pies all day

Plastic cap on my hair
I used to mind, now I don't care
I used to mind, now I don't care
Cause I'm grey

Did I show you this picture of my nephew
Taken at his big birthday surprise
At my sister's house last Sunday
This is Monday and I'm making pies

I'm making pies, making pies

Thursday nights I go and type
Down at the church for Father Mike
It gets me out
And he ain't hard to like at all

Jesus stares at me in my chair
With his big blue eyes and his honey brown hair
He's looking at me
From way up there on the wall
Did I show you this picture of my sweetheart
Taken of us before the war?
Of the Greek and his Italian girl
One Sunday at the shore

We tied our ribbons to the fire escape
They were taken by the birds
Who flew home to the country
As the bombs rained on the world

Five a.m., here I am
Walking the block to Table Talk
You could cry or die
Or just make pies all day

I'm making pies, making pies
I'm making pies, making pies