It's gettin' near chawin',
Then bite on that fryer prize.
You'll soon be chewin' your lunch;
I hope there's no dog surprise.
You eat with a tarnished spoon.
You feast like a tar who's tarpon-trawling.

Then tasty fare's all gone;
To the chef you're crowing:
"Nifty, sublime was your lunch!"

You ripped through that lunch
Like flights of locusts bite through,
Fress a crop as they crunch
New-grown forage and bankrupt you.
Lay waste to your darling cow's
Nice maize that from seeds did once rise up.

You are sated; all gone
The eats; there, you're going
To dim sum find for your brunch.