Eeek!
Who knows
What might show
Under all my
Super tight, fatty clothes
I thought this spam would slim-ify
But instead this diet will make me die
Good thing my spammy feathers can cover my beak
Make it so I don’t stuff my face and cry
Spread some spam on a slice of rye
Whatever works on dough
Is my dream pie
But guess no,
Won’t grow
Sleek.
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