(To the tune of the obvious song... Happy Thanksgiving and lots of love, Julian.)
Stuffing and gravy and sauce from cranberries,
Good friends, let's hold hands and eat and make merry.
Pass me a biscuit,
We're eating like kings.
These are a few of my favorite things…
Andover, Alfred, or South Pasadena,
Eat 'til you're stuffed and the plates are all clean-a.
East coast and west coast,
The dinner bell rings--
These are a few of my favorite things.
Other time zones,
Other tables,
Still good times are had--
Just load down my plate 'til I can't even lift it,
And then I'll be oh so glad.
Light meat or dark meat, I'm not very picky.
Just tell me there's more or else things could get tricky.
Surely there's something--
A leg or a wing?
There's always enough of my favorite things.
Ice cream and pies and desserts all delicious.
Time to sneak off or get stuck with the dishes.
Too much bad jug wine,
My head how it rings.
A little too much of my favorite things.
When the food comes
by the truckload,
I'm a pregnant chad.
I just let my belt out and nap by the woodstove,
And then I don't feel… so bad.