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Come on-a my house my house, I'm gonna give you candy
Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you
Marriage ring and a pomegranate too ah

-"Come On-a My House"

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Mangos, papaya, ches- nuts from the fire
In my house of straw I have so much more

Pie from the peach and I fix in the kitchen
Each bite is just right for your appetite

Now if you like-a the way I cook
And if you like-a the way I look
Then step inside my shady nook
And you'll find mangos and papayas, anything your heart desires.

-"Mangos"

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I don't want pork chops and bacon.
That won't awaken
My appetite inside.
I want the Frim Fram Sauce
With the oss and fay
With shifafa on the side.

Well, you know,
A fella's really got to eat,
And a fella should eat right.
Five will get you ten
I'm gonna feed myself right tonight.

-"Fram Fram Sauce"

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Posts: 8504 | Registered: Aug 1999  |  IP: Logged | 

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Well, at lunchtime you can always find me
At the Whole Earth Vitamin Bar
Just sucking on my plain white yogurt
From my hand thrown pottery jar
And sippin' a little hand pressed cider
With a carrot stick for dessert
And wiping my face in a natural way
On the sleeve of my peasant shirt
Oh, yeah

Ah, but when that clock strikes midnight
And I'm all by myself
I work that combination on my secret hideaway shelf
And I pull out some Fritos corn chips
Dr Pepper and an ole Moon Pie
Then I sit back in glorious expectation
Of a genuine junk food high

Oh yeah, in the daytime I'm Mr Natural
Just as healthy as I can be
Oh, but at night I'm a junk food junkie
Good lord have pity on me

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Posts: 4344 | Registered: Mar 2003  |  IP: Logged | 

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"Food, Glorious Food" from "Oliver!"

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Posts: 7877 | Registered: Feb 2003  |  IP: Logged | 

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I'm not talkin' quesadillas or a dozen Krispy Kremes,
Or a pound of caviar that's a rich man's dream.
No banana split or fillet of pompano.
No, I will play for gumbo,
Yeah, I will play for gumbo

Chorus
A piece of French bread
With which to wipe my bowl,
Good for the body.
Good for the soul.
It's a little like religion
And a lot like sex.
You should never know
When you're gonna get it next.
At midnight in the quarter or noon in Thibadeaux
I will play for gumbo
Yes, I will play for gumbo.

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Posts: 5422 | Registered: Dec 2001  |  IP: Logged | 

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When my Dad was a kid in my Grandma’s home
She taught him how to start with an old soup bone
You put the onions, carrots, celery, and water in the pot
It only takes a little of whatever you’ve got
“There ain’t no way to hurry it,” my Grandma would remind
“Anything worth waiting for is gonna take time”

It smells like winter at our house
Smells like winter at our house
Smells like winter at our house
Smells like soup

Bean soup, chicken soup with macaroni
Cream of broccoli, minestrone
Potato soup, tomato soup, chowder made of clam
Miso soup, mushroom soup, split pea with ham
Bouillon, scallion, tom kha ghai with lemongrass
Matzoth ball, chilibean, cream of asparagus

So it doesn’t even matter if the cold winds blow
If the rivers freeze and there’s three feet of snow
From my Dad and my Grandma it’s what I got
The put a whole lotta love in that old black pot
In my mind I see a little boy, a distant winter day
He’s standing at the door and I can hear him say . . .

It smells like winter at our house
Smells like winter at our house
Smells like winter at our house
Smells like soup

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Posts: 9866 | Registered: Apr 2002  |  IP: Logged | 

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Oh I wish I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner
That is what I truly want to be
For if I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner
Everyone would be in love with me.

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Posts: 11895 | Registered: Apr 2002  |  IP: Logged | 

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Shadows growing longer, light is growing dim
Supper's on the table everybody come in
Been playing at the river and I'm tired to the bone
She's calling all the children home

Chorus

Home to the table and the big, black pot
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
When she's calling all the children home

. . .

Bridge:

I could hear her voice in the middle of a crowd
It was never too late and it was never too loud
Smelled just like home by the time we hit the door
There was always just enough but there was always room for more

. . .

Last Chorus:

Home to the table, home to the feast
Where the last are first and the greatest are the least
Where the rich will envy what the poor have got
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
When we're calling all the children home
Gathered 'round the table and the big, black pot
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
From the shacks in Soweto to the ice of Nome
From Baghdad City to the streets of Rome
When we're calling all the children home

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Posts: 9866 | Registered: Apr 2002  |  IP: Logged | 

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They're red, they're white, they're brown
They get that way underground
There can't be much to do
So now they have blue ones too

We don't care what thay look like we'll eat them
Any way they can fit on our plate
Every way we can conjure to heat them
We're delighted and think they're just great

(Chorus)
PO ta to po ta to po ta to po
ta to po ta to po ta to po ta
to po ta to po ta to po ta to
po ta to po ta to po ta to

Sometimes we ditch the skin
To eat what it's holding in
Sometimes we'd rather please
Have just the outside with cheese

They have eyes but they do not have faces
I don't know if their feelings get hurt
By just hanging around in dark places
Where that only can stare at the dirt

(Repeat Chorus)

I guess the use is scant
For other parts of the plant
But that which grows in view
Is eating potato too

I imagine them under their acres
Out in Idaho and up in Maine
Maybe wondering if they'll be bakers
Or knishes or latkes or plain

(Repeat Chorus)

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Posts: 73 | Registered: Apr 2004  |  IP: Logged |