I hate soup, I hate soup
You just never know
The things that could go
In soup
I hate soup, I hate soup
You just never see
The things that could be
In soup

When I was a kid my older sister baby-sat for me
And for dinner made up a can of noodle soup
But she couldn't make me eat it ‘cause the parsley looked like fruit flies
So she broke a yardstick over my head

I hate soup, I hate soup
You just don't know all
The things that could fall
In soup

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn wrote a Russian novel
Called One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich
Ivan was eating some soup when he scooped an eyeball onto his spoon
And couldn't remember reading it in the ingredients on the can

Oh I hate soup, I hate soup
It scares me to death
What's holding its breath
In soup... Soup... Souuuuuup

Album: Treated and Released

HOME - Songs - Photos - F.a.q. - Guestbook - Email

(schedule, store, fan club, message board and more!)

Empty File Put some content in this file!