Well, I woke up Sunday morning
having eaten too much the night before
it still hurt.
And a cookie was my breakfast.
Wasn't bad.
So I had another
for dessert.
And I looked upon the floor and there
was a massive hot fudge stain upon my shirt.
Then I picked a cherry from my hair
and stumbled down the stairs
to meet the day.

I'd stuffed my face the night before
with burgers and the fries that I'd been chewing.
And my girl, she shook her head and asked,
"Mike, tell me, do you know what the hell
that you're doing?"
Then I walked across the restaurant
and ordered some of that stuff
they were brewing.
And, Lord I called the waiter back
and didn't care how much I'd have to pay.

On a sundae, cherry's on top
with a side of root beer float.
Well, there's something in a sundae
that makes a body feel a bloat.
But there's nothing short of loving
that's half as yummy as the sound
of the moaning that your throat does
with sundae's slurping going down.

In a booth I saw a daddy
with a laughing little girl.
They both were eating.
And I saw a guy just sit and drool
the "Hot Fudge Volcano"
he was completing.
And my Atkins-diet girl flipped out:
"Mike, please, will you just stop!"
she said, just bleating.
And it echoed through the parlor
like the disappearing scoops of yesterday.

On a sundae, cherry's on top
with a side of root beer float!
Well, there's something in a sundae
that makes a body feel a bloat!
But there's nothing short of loving
that's half as yummy as the sound
of the moaning that your throat does
with sundae's slurping going down.