Spam

Funny thing being out in the woods

Normal food doesn't really keep too good

The bread's moldy, milk's sour or powder

And i can only eat so much canned clam chowder

My favourite dinner was corn, rice, and ham

Or maybe it was spam, you had to drain it from a can

And leave the juice somewhere else for the wasps

Every day i'd get exactly one can of pop

When it was my turn to do the dishes

I'd float the bowls in the ocean

Feed the fishes while i rinsed them

This one time i got distracted, sidetracked

They all floated out and i couldn't get them back

I tried with the boat hook, i tried throwing rocks

At least i could sink them if they weren't going to stop

And hopefully get them back when the tide's down

Man, i was glad no one else was around

But it turns out my family's watching from the cabin

I walk back up, they all start laughing

I still do the stupidest things sometimes

It's nice to know that they don't really mind

That it doesn't really matter

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

Nothing broken, dishes shattered

Platter sank, no sink, no tv dinner

Just spam from a can in the middle of winter

Yeah, winter, yeah you know it must have been

Otherwise i probably would've jumped right in

But january water is particularly frigid

Colder than a witch's tit or at least her digits

So ditch it, because it doesn't really matter

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

Nothing broken, dishes shattered

Platter sank, no sink, no tv dinner

Spam from a can in the middle of winter

Fry it up, we got that minute rice on boil

We're down to food that'll never spoil