You alarmists are talking about
Vein constrictions wrought when through my snout
Comes this sub you could say’s bun o’ ground
Gristle—nonetheless I wolf it down.

“Fare’s gross!” my hero,
You say, holding nose.
There goes my hero. . .
Alimentary.

You’re depressed as I feed this chow
Down my gut like a seething sow—
Grub you snub; you say it’s chum o’ sound—
Fishing food that’s unfit for a floun’.

“Fare’s gross!” you sneer-o
While holding your nose.
There goes my hero—
“Awful alchemy!”

You know, my hero eatin’s crawful fress,
You know, my hero’s here and then gone.

There goes my hero
Watch is as it goes
Where also beer flows
Effervescently.