Can of Onions

(to Band on the Run)

Look inside my pantry
Empty as a desert
Never seeing nothing
Spoiled again.
This food,
Mama
Food
Mama

All the labels say late last year
Or expired the other day
These cans lack clarity
Half the numbers are rubbed away
All the labels say late last year.
All the labels say late last year.

Well, I searched and clawed through that smelly place
Hoping hope would soon be found
And a shining beacon fell upon my face
No expiration to be found

Can of onions
Can of onions
And the bulging spam and moldy jam
Will never the see the sun.

But my can of onions
Can of onions.
Can of onions.
Can of onions.

Well, a smile then grew upon my longing face
As my tum began to growl
Then sadness leaped out of my kitchen drawer.
No opener to be found.

Can of onions.
Can of onions.
Now the garlic rub,
I have a tub
But it’s hard to keep it down.

Oh, that can of onions.
Can of onions.
Can of onions.
Can of onions.

©2009 Warren Baker
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