You know we have a right to eat,
Be it chicken or pigs feet,
And all the meals that we skipped will all be gone.
You begin to stir at dawn,
Then there's fudge, mint and foot longs,
Eat inside where the shogun flings his tongs.

I'll eat my hat before food substitution,
Move my bowels, it's just food distribution.
Meat cut thin on my range half a pound,
Just like a food bar buffet,
Just some good fillet,
Whoops, this stuff's only cooked halfway.
Will we get food again?

Gas range is good for some,
Get bleu cheese and dijon,
If you can tolerate that cheese mold, and smell.
But you may hurl just the same,
The guarantee's unchanged,
Mind your manners, 'cause what we don't eat we'll store.

I'll eat my hat before food substitution,
Move my bowels, it's just food distribution.
Meat cut thin on my range half a pound,
Just like a food bar buffet,
Just some good fillet,
Whoops, this stuff's only cooked halfway.
Will we get food again?
Hope so!

Store food on shelf, could be famine worldwide,
It be helpin' out so we can survive,
Wrap it in wax paper and pile it to the sky,
Though I know that the hydrolized must keep dry.
Clue ya.

There's nothing left to eat,
They're so indifferent you see,
And the Shogun's are replaced by Stir Fry.
What little food is left,
Is causing them to fight,
And it keeps on getting weirder every night.

I'll eat my hat before food substitution,
Move my bowels, it's just food distribution.
Meat cut thin on my range half a pound,
Just like a food bar buffet,
Just some good fillet,
Whoops, this stuff's only cooked halfway.
Will we get food again?
Hope so!

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Meat in stew sauce,
Same taste, just cold sauce.