Beans

 

There will never by a time like this again

Everybody laughs when I say “When”

Every time I say it they all howl

After I say it I growl

Howling and growling on a Saturday night

Just like they say in rock ‘n roll, it feels all right

We might have a few beers and smoke a little pot

But when I say “When” things get really hot

Ball caps are turn forward and nose rings fly into the air

I loosen my necktie and stand on a shaky old kitchen chair

I say “When” in my melodic voice

The refrigerator flies open like it has a choice

The oven lights up with a soft orange glow

Outside it is cold and starting to snow

Everybody’s howling and sweating in the human heat

I growl real loud and say “Let’s have something to eat.”

Everyone backs up with fear in their eyes

“Something, not someone I laugh and yell!”

Everybody looks like they just came back from hell

There are fifty cans of beans stored over there

That’s right–right behind that big green armchair

We heated the beans and slammed them down

Suddenly I heard a loud farting sound

The room started sounding like a flock of migrating geese

The world was alive with the cutting of cheese

I said “When”

And the place turned into mayhem

Howling and growling and farting hard

It seemed like we should be on a psycho ward

But that’s how we celebrate birthdays on this side of hill

First recorded in 1735 by the tip of a quill