Spam

Funny thing being out in the woods
Normal food doesn't really keep too good
The bread's moldy, milk's sour or powder
And i can only eat so much canned clam chowder

My favourite dinner was corn, rice, and ham
Or maybe it was spam, you had to drain it from a can
And leave the juice somewhere else for the wasps
Every day i'd get exactly one can of pop

When it was my turn to do the dishes
I'd float the bowls in the ocean
Feed the fishes while i rinsed them
This one time i got distracted, sidetracked
They all floated out and i couldn't get them back

I tried with the boat hook, i tried throwing rocks
At least i could sink them if they weren't going to stop
And hopefully get them back when the tide's down
Man, i was glad no one else was around

But it turns out my family's watching from the cabin
I walk back up, they all start laughing
I still do the stupidest things sometimes
It's nice to know that they don't really mind

That it doesn't really matter
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
Nothing broken, dishes shattered
Platter sank, no sink, no tv dinner
Just spam from a can in the middle of winter

Yeah, winter, yeah you know it must have been
Otherwise i probably would've jumped right in
But january water is particularly frigid
Colder than a witch's tit or at least her digits

So ditch it, because it doesn't really matter
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
Nothing broken, dishes shattered
Platter sank, no sink, no tv dinner
Spam from a can in the middle of winter

Fry it up, we got that minute rice on boil
We're down to food that'll never spoil