Dei time turns me off, and I don’t mean maybe—
Time to dine and gain weight, put on the pounds.
Here she comes, the thumper who starts a-braying.
Let’s get chewin’ and cut out the sound.

Yikes! Thank the lord—gorge, it’s bite time;
It’s Thanksgiving day,
A day of sup, sup right fine. . .
Wastin’ time while we pray.
I want repast action;
It’s a time for food.
Right, thank the lord—gorge, it’s bite time;
I’m frankly bored with you.

I’ll talk about pans—chow’s lurking in them, plenty:
Stuffing, dressing, peas, roux, turkey—they taste so good.
Talk about gummin’ flaps while my tummy’s empty.
Sheesh! it’s time to dine; I wish we would!

I’m frankly bored with your rite time;
Let’s ingest buffet. . .
A day of sup, up waistline;
Tasty is the parfait.
I want repast action
And some wine—get stewed.
I’ll tank up—pour! It’s get-tight time—
I thank the lord for booze!