I wipe my bare foot on the welcome carpet on your floor,
And let your nose sniff at my open door
The aromas coming from my kitchen.
Hot apple pies are in the oven.
And it’s got your mouth waterin’.
But my attention has been caught
On the delight you have brought:
A candied apple!
A candied apple!
A candied apple!
I have to delay your visit just at my door,
While I fill my tummy with the treat you have in store.
I wipe my foot and hold the stick
And take a lick
And take a lick.
Candy melts and slides down my throat.
Let me revel, let me gloat.
Just stay still, ‘til I am done,
‘Til I am done;
And I’ve just begun.
Let me linger for a while.
I am just a gastrophile.
No, you can’t go in as yet.
I’ve just mopped; the floor is wet.
I wipe my foot on your carpet.
You can have mom’s apple pies,
When your sweetness salifies.
I wipe my foot at your door
And excite your hungering for more.
So let me eat down to the core.
Down to the core.
Down to the core.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
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