Schooner, gorge taters:
Luncheon and some wet brew.
Schooner, more taters!
Girl, you got to dive in.
Schooner, port, taters,
Luncheon and the best brew,
Schooner, gorge taters,
Luncheon before din.

We’re gettin’ fatter with time;
We got a transfat behind,
Piggin’ out on lunch
That’s mainly side dish
And a glass whose contents
Can make your paunch quite immense.
And sometime the lunch-
eon dish is fried fish.

Schooner, fork taters:
Lovin’ spuds and wet brew,
Schooner, hoard taters,
Girl, you got to dive in.
Schooner, more taters!
Lovin’ spuds and best brew,
Schooner, porr’dge taters—
Luncheon before din.

We say that fressing is fine,
So, darling, let’s start to dine;
We’ll taste all that lunch.
Ever tried knish
With a suggestion of thyme
Or maybe lace it with lime?
Let’s pig out on lunch
And cry, “Knish, nix!”
Let’s be cooking our lunch
In deep-fat recesses;
Let’s be cooking our lunch. . .
Deep fat ingresses.
It’s a fat fête, girl,
Lipid infusion

Schooners, more! taters (oh, yes!)
Chuggin’ lots will get you
Schooners, more!! taters,
Girl, you wanna sip gin?
Schooners, more taters,
Bulkin’ up, I’ll bet you
Soon’ll gorge greater
Bunches till your chin
Slumps down to your shin.

So grab a four-liter stein
And pour it down till it’s dry ’n’
Then lift another mug—
Meanwhile is fryin’
The starch for which we’ve a yen:
Golden brown, transfat-tened;
We’ll get grub and chugs
That we’ve been eyein’.

Schooner, more!!! taters:
Luncheon and some wet brew,
Schooner and taters,
Girl, you got to dive in.
Schooner and taters:
Luncheon and the best brew.
Schooner and taters:
Luncheon before din.