Oh boy, I just can’t wait,
To sit in my kitchen and salivate.
After eating that hospital slop,
And sometimes puking – hey, get a mop!
I almost forgot that food had a taste,
All food seemed made with hospital waste!
All I wanted was something edible.
Is that a request so incredible?
A little sugar, a little spice,
Some lox and eggs would be so nice.
But all that came was low fat jello,
No egg white, just the yellow.
Maybe there’s more to my cure,
But I’ve had it with their plat du jour.
They tried to fool us with foreign names.
But with food, I don’t play games.
I know that lamb is not yet mutton
I can’t be fooled by crusted cotton.
I know they fed outdated Spam
I’m an expert on Green Eggs and Ham.
But now I’m home and my fridge is loaded,
I can eat at will, until I’m bloated.
I can fill my gut with fat and lean,
And every item in between.
I can start my day with hot sausage and fries,
And end my night with Entemanns pies.
I can pour on the spices till my mouth burns bright
So I’ll suffer heart burn throughout the night.
Bacon, shrimp, hot-dogs, and spaghetti,
Home cooking, home cookin, I feel better already.