Isthmus karma's gonna get you. . .
Land strip that connects like a thread.
If you venture off, you'll get wetter--
Bet you'll sleep in a water bed.
It's a part of the world that's shoved
In water like an ungloved
Finger of earth connecting two
Masses of land, yeah, two.

Isthmus karma's gonna get you. . .
Gonna be livin' in a place
That might keep two continents from partin';
Keep 'em face to face.
Lots in the world are in the sea.
Water. . .two sides, not three.
Where on earth d'ya think you are,
Peninsula, like Florida?

And it's no island,
Such as remote and chilly Iceland.
Or Taiwan, Hainan;
But landlocked it's non-.

Isthmus karma's gonna get you,
Between where two masses meet,
Connected but not encumbered.
Two cuisines you eat.
Let's say that one has broiled deer,
While the other thrives on stout-stewed steer.
You commingle the fare,
You grab silverware,
Then you eat your share.

And you all dine on--
Hear a "moo"; makes you start; then you're done.
Yes you all dine on.
For desert, there's dun.