Rolled boot is filled,
More-spacious thighs,
That ass sure weight has gained.
More syrup on mount Pancake Feast,
I munch not fruit and grains.
A man can have a massive can,
Hog plenty when he eats.
And down the hatch, another batch
Of sweets and dining treats.

Holed snoot is full from pillage meet;
There's stern-from-pants egress.
I scourge the fare I freely eat;
It's no delicate ess'
A man can have a massive can.
Cod rend—bite and then chaw.
Cod-burped piehole; no self-control—
Pie liberally in craw.

Au jus I spill from hero sluiced,
With deliciousness rife.
I gorge myself on buttered buns. . .
Prefer curry to wife.
A man can have a massive can.
When I'm full, I re-dine. . .
Fill at the mess; no slenderness
For me. I'll have some wine.

O' food I'm full; more plaice and bream
Washed down with 15 beers.
I'm smashed and plastered and can't seem
To get up off my rears.
A man can have a mass o'cans
Hog plenty when he eats,
And down the hatch, another batch—
Lunch meats and dining treats.