All this talk of food has made me hungry.
I must go and make a midnight snack.
Although my show is starting
My stomach sure is smarting:
I’ll go and grab one now and be right back.
I turn off the sound during commercials
But they have taken that into account:
The images of hot food
To the set keep my eyes glued
Causing my hunger all the more to mount.
Nothing quite so good is in my pantry
My freezer and refrigerator too.
It seems a petty quibble
But I’ve nothing to nibble.
My show is starting—what am I to do?
I’m not going to the corner drugstore
Although they’re always open, and they’ve got
Cold drinks, and chips, and candy,
And while they all sound dandy,
I’ll make do with what I’ve already bought.
Though my bags of chips have all been emptied
I’ll try the same thing that I had for lunch.
A peanut butter sandwich Is all I have on hand, which
Will give my hunger pangs a one-two punch.