A Menu Full of Dreams by Ray Johnson & Dave Bieritz is a masterclass in storytelling through song – an intimate, wistful ballad that encapsulates longing, regret, and the ever-elusive search for fulfillment. The stripped-down acoustic arrangement acts as a gentle undercurrent to the song’s deeply personal narrative, giving the lyrics the space they need to breathe and resonate. There’s an unpolished rawness here, a sense of vulnerability in both the songwriting and performance that makes it feel like an overheard confession rather than a song meant for the masses. It’s deeply cinematic, the kind of song that would play softly in the background of a pivotal moment in an indie film, capturing a protagonist lost in thought, gazing out at the rain through a café window.
The lyrics are deceptively simple yet profoundly evocative. They follow a woman sitting alone in a French café, reflecting on a life that didn’t unfold the way she once imagined. The opening lines, “Sitting in a French cafe at a table set for two / Feeling every bit of 43 and nothing she could do”, immediately set a scene of quiet melancholy. The specificity of her age adds weight; she is at a point where youthful dreams have faded, and she now reckons with time’s relentless passage. The image of the “table set for two” implies absence, a seat left empty either by chance or by the accumulation of choices that led her here.
The motif of choosing her next course in love from a menu full of dreams is poignant, likening love to a curated selection of possibilities, each one as fleeting and uncertain as a dish to be tasted and forgotten. It suggests an underlying hope, perhaps even a self-delusion, that love is something to be ordered, that the next choice might finally be the right one. The song delicately balances this optimism with a quiet resignation, making it clear that she has been here before, making these same choices, facing the same empty seat.
The second verse deepens the sorrow, revealing that she once envisioned a different life for herself, “She always thought she’d be the perfect mom and raise a family / But that never worked out she couldn’t find that piece.” The phrasing is heartbreaking in its understatement; rather than dwelling on bitterness, the lyrics accept this loss with a quiet sigh. The word “piece” is particularly powerful—it implies incompleteness, as if she has spent her life searching for something essential that was always just out of reach. When the song recalls “the times that she would weep” in choosing love, it becomes clear that she is not simply reminiscing – she is trapped in a cycle of yearning and disappointment.
Then comes a shift: “Funny how life comes as a surprise / Even though you see through the same eyes.” This line is quietly devastating in its truth. No matter how much time passes, we remain ourselves, looking out at the world through the same eyes, carrying our past within us. The song suggests that she could have reached out to a friend, that there was always someone willing to let her in. This moment of insight is fleeting – there is no triumphant realization, only a gentle acknowledgment that loneliness is, in part, a choice.
The closing verse returns to the café, grounding the song in its quiet, cinematic setting. The clock on the wall marks the passing of time, reinforcing the song’s theme of life slipping away, moment by moment. “She doesn’t want to be alone tonight / But in the morning things will be alright.” There’s a final note of hope, or perhaps just resignation – one more attempt at connection, one more dream to chase before facing another morning alone.
Musically, the song’s stripped-down arrangement enhances its emotional impact. The acoustic guitar feels deeply personal, like a friend sitting across from you, gently strumming as you confess your heartache. There’s no need for elaborate production – the song thrives on its rawness, its ability to make you feel as though you’re sitting in that café with her, watching time slip by. The melody, unassuming yet haunting, lingers long after the song ends, much like the regrets and longings it captures.
In the end, A Menu Full of Dreams is more than just a song about lost love, it is a meditation on time, choices, and the quiet ache of unrealized dreams. It is deeply human, beautifully understated, and utterly cinematic in its storytelling, the kind of song that stays with you, long after the last note fades. We have added the track to our New Music Spotlight playlist, and our TIMELESS playlist, whilst we continue to stream the entirety of Appealing to Angels!