This is the season for me to be Conan
A barbarian makin’ men moanin’.
All this street boxing keeps me on my feet lots,
I’ve dropped so much weight, I need new socks.
But to be plain with you,
I’d rather eat fried octopus
Roasted duck and battered asparagus,
Lettuce only with bacon and butter,
A mud-pie if it’s muddier.
I nominate
Goose liver for my plate.
At this point, I’ll panhandle for a love-handle.
My spare tire’s out of air.
It’s time for surf, turf ‘n earth
And to gorge without care.
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