Tomato sauce, I’m at a loss
I simply don’t know why
Hardly ever, really never
Spots a worn out tie
But wear a new one, a costly blue one
A fancy silken job
If you’re like me, I guarantee
With gravy, you’re a slob
Spicy mustard, chocolate custard
Everybody knows
Never spill and never will
When you’re wearing your old clothes
But brand new pants don’t have a chance
Hanging on your hips
Melted cheese with shocking ease
Drips right off your lips
So let’s suppose food really knows
When you’re dressed up fancy
I’d still conclude that eating nude
Would be very chancy