Well, I heard some people talkin’ just the other day,
And they said that I was not looking all too well:
"She's very svelte; belt's pulled in a notch or two
We'd say, her waist is twenty-two."

More like eighteen, to be true.
They won't not let me eat any lunch. . .
"Bad for my health."

I was already gaunt;
Scrawny bod I'd flaunt.
And then it started: the taunt:
"Too, too, too huge, huge, huge!"

Even though five inches is
The circumference of my thigh,
And I look like a mummy 'cause my skin's so tight.
"Pudge," the nemesis of girls
Who want to catch designers' eye.
You gotta barf up each meal
And then puke all night.

I was already gaunt;
Scrawny bod I'd flaunt,
But I'm thinking: vittles haunt.
"Food, food, food, food, food, food!"

I'll be screwed if I ever hold my food down;
To be the model of mod'ling, you can't eat.
One day I got caught noshing, in dingy dives, fast-food chains;
They demanded: get that digit down toute de suite.

I was already gaunt,
Looked like ghosts who haunt.
I'm thinking of restaurant
'cause I'm pall-deathly gaunt.

Yes, I'm already gaunt
They want me to launch
Lunch, dinner, snacks, never stanch
Flows, or I'll have a paunch.

But I'm already gaunt,
Already gaunt
Alright!
Bites, take flight.