I’m always snackin’ after midnight
it makes my pants tight
and I can’t zip my fly
I’m always snackin’ after midnight
Eatin’ moon pies

I roll around just like a sphere would
like Trisha Yearwood
I’ve gained a pound or ten
from all this snackin’ after midnight
watchin’ TNN

Sometimes the flatulence and weight gain
The episodes of chest pain
make me think it’s time to cut back
Too often must I question
if it’s just indigestion
or yet another heart attack

I go on snackin’ after midnight
Just need a quick bite
of gravy fried in lard
I keep on packin’ after midnight
my plus-size leotard

Oh, when I smuggled in some Zingers
that spa for pudgy singers
said I can’t come back here no more
A date will end in failure
if Casanova’s trailer
has a thirty-six inch door

I keep on snackin’ after midnight
I’m drinkin’ Coors Lite
and smokin’ Kents in bed
And I’m still snackin’ after midnight
yeah, I’m corn-fed!