The Yam Song

June 13th, 2008

yams

Since my old blog, Todd Man Out, got wiped, this is one post I wanted to bring back from the dead. It’s a keepsake. I had a quick discussion about yams today and how they are different from sweet potatoes. True or not, it makes no difference in my level of disgust for them. So, let’s do this one more time:

The Yam Song

I love to eat some chocolate chips
And smack them on my lips
I love the way that Whoppers taste
I eat them fast, in haste

Honey Buns are good with glaze
Sends me in a daze
Rolls of Cake, from Swiss they come
Makes a dinner done

Taco supper is the best
Beats out all the rest
But, a certain veggie invades my feast
To which I’d rather drink some grease

It grows inside the ground below
Not a friend, a dreaded foe
Disguised in name and shape and look
To something that is normally cooked

It’s pulled from Earth to torture kids
And those who never tell a fib
It’s not a steak, an egg, or ham
But goes by the name, the disgusting YAM

Don’t say that word, oh please do hush
It’s another word for barfy mush
It’s sometimes called a Sweet Potato
Don’t be fooled, that ain’t no tater

It’s hardly “sweet” in all that gunk
Nor is it a “potato,” yams are junk
Taters are white and made to French fry
Yams are orange, same as puke pie

But oh my sweet tongue, the worst thing of all
The awful thing I wish not to recall
Is when they serve it, with things they think dandy
And make the impossible claim
“It tastes like candy”

So keep your yams away from me
Content without them is what I’ll be
Don’t ask if I like them, to that I’ll say
“YAMS ARE POISON, SO KEEP THEM AWAY!”

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