Don’t ever bite the hand that feeds or

it’ll serve you things most foul.

Green and slimy things and centipedes

that will make you want to howl!

H-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-W-L

Should you ever try to eat your fill

from a hand with a mind its own,

you might get a mouthful of something

that’ll make you want to groan.

H-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-W-L

The hand might feed you some nasty things:

like vegetables—rotten not fresh.

That’s how you know it’s not your muscles

writhing beneath your flesh.

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If it’s even food it’s trying to serve—

of which, I have my doubts.

I find myself saying, pleading,

Please! Not the Brussels sprouts!

H-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-W-L

Don’t ever bite the hand that feeds

for it might feed you guts or a brain.

If you need some fiber it might

force some wood down against the grain.

H-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-W-L

Don’t ever bite the hand that feeds or

it’ll serve you things you just can’t stand.

Since it won’t behave I know I’ll have to—

there’s no choice—I’ll have to eat the hand!

H-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-W-L

With the bones and nails, the hand

is quite the disgusting meal.

The fingers claw all the way down

plus there’s all the pain you have to feel.

H-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-W-L

Don’t ever eat the hand that feeds,

or you’ll eat your meals off a hook.

What’s that at the end of it?

It’s gross! It’s coming! I can’t even look!

H-O-o-O-o—