Why I Pack My Lunch

The lunch bell tolls, we go bravely,
To chicken knuckles with toxic gravy.
Cream of tea bags, wombat pelt,
Lizard lips, what's that? Smelt?
Chocolate pudding that goes crunch.
Is it any wonder why I pack my lunch?

French fried nostrils, tuna rolls,
Is that shoe or just fillet of sole?
Grilled toenails with a side of bunions,
Sautéed bats with lots of onions,
Biscuits hard enough to bunt,
Is it any wonder why I pack my lunch?

Some things move, some things shouldn't.
Buying your lunch here? Pal, I wouldn't.
Some things ought to be left alone
Turn them back to dirt and stone
Good food's rare as Haley's Comet,
This stuff makes me want to... leave the table.

Chunky milk, eyebrow soup,
Refried snakeskin, fresh baked boot,
Poultry feet with goat entrails,
Escargot? No, that's snails.
Chicken beaks on sticky buns.
Is it any wonder why I pack my lunch?