(sing to the tune of "When Doves Cry")
dig, if you will, a picture of you and i with kabob, shish. the smell of a barbecue covers me. can you, my darling, can you picture shish?
dream, if you can, a sandwich. layers and layers of cheese. add some guacamole and tomatoes. don't make me taste you without a touch of mayoneese.
how can you just leave me standing alone without beer that's cold? maybe i'm just too demanding. maybe i'm just like fresh pizza dough, just rolled. maybe i'm just like a hunger that's never satisfied. why can't we eat with each other? this is what life tastes like...deep fried.
touch, if you will, my stomach. feel how it trembles inside. you've got the appetizers tied up. don't make me chase you, at least pass me a side.
how can you just leave me standing alone with a plate full of mold. maybe i'm just too demanding. maybe i like my gazpacho icy cold. maybe i'm just like my brother. he prefers rice noodles, wide. why can't we eat with each other? this is what life tastes like...deep fried.
ooh deep fried.
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