I see that hungry look upon your face.
You got your truffles; I want mine.
They stuck their snouts into the hiding place.
You got your truffles thanks to swine.

What have you got for lunch toda-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay?
The hogs on a fungus fora-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay.

You kindly ask me to indulge and dine.
"Mis trufas son tus trufas." I'm
For this gastronomy; it's mighty fine,
"These truffles, yours as well as mine."

I used to love meat, that I know-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow.
I'm now a truffled man--some mo'-o'-o'-o'-o'-o-o'.
Get those hogs stalkin';
Hope they aren't balkin'.
Gourmets love fungus foo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-od.

And so forgive me if I beat your swine. . .
Need a fungus fix when I dine.

Troubled countervoice:
I grieve when the meal's at an end.
She says, "Here's something pretty for you,
It's dainty too:
Prepare your chops; this sop'll stop your "through" moue.
I pop it in my mouth; truff love is mine.
I'd had my truffles--both sublime,
I first had truffles found by swine,
And then had truffles, candy ki-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ind.