I won't eat them in the rain.
Will not eat them, on a train.
Will not eat them for my Mama or my Papa.
I will not share them with my own sweet Mary.
If I do, she will become sweary.
I do not like the green, green eggs and ham.

Yes, they'll all come to greet me
telling me this food tastes sweetly.
But I do not like the green, green eggs and ham.

The old plate looks the same.
But the ham is green and dry.
And there's the green yolks from our old green hen.
Not in house, with mouse, or my sweet Mary.
Not in box, or with fox Jerry.
I do not like the green, green eggs and ham.

Yes, they'll all come to greet me
telling me this food tastes sweetly.
But I do not like the green, green eggs and ham.

Then I awake, and I look around me
in a boat, with a goat that walks around me.
And I realize that I haven't been eating.
For there's a plate with a nutritious breakfast
and I must eat, knife and fork at daybreak.
And yes, I like the green, green eggs and ham.

Yes, I thank you, Mr. Sam-I-Am
whether fried, or poached, or scram.
And it's good to eat
the green, green eggs
and ham!