Beans, beans, they're good for your heart. The more you eat, the more you f@rt. The more you f@rt, the better you feel, So let's have beans at every meal!
There's a bright, golden haze on the meadow There's a bright, golden haze on the meadow. The corn is as high as an elephant's eye And it looks like it's climbing clear up to the sky.
As the grains of wheat Once scattered on the hill Are gathered into one to become our bread, So may all Your people, From all the ends of earth, Be gathered into one in You.
16 comments:
On top of spaghetti
All covered in cheese
I lost my poor meatball
When somebody sneezed
childhood parody
Oats, peas, beans, and barley grow.
Oats, peas, beans, and barley grow.
Can you or I or anyone know how oats, peas, beans, and barley grow?
Traditional children's song
Your weavilly wheat's not fit to eat
Neither is your barley
What I want is the best of rye
To bake a cake for Charlie
American folk song
Feed me on cornbread and beans, Lord, Lord,
And I won't be treated this way.
--American folksong
Pasta, I remember pasta
I'm not anti-pasta
It's just anti-me
Butter, I remember butter
we were once like lovers
We were quite a team
("Butter", by Megan McDonough)
"Red beans and rice through kitchen windows,
It's suppertime, and the bario is dark."
Paul Simon, "I Was Born in Puerto Rico", from the musical THE CAPEMAN.
Might as well face it you're addicted to spuds
Weird Al Yankovitch
Beans, beans, they're good for your heart.
The more you eat, the more you f@rt.
The more you f@rt, the better you feel,
So let's have beans at every meal!
--Children's song
Beans, beans, the magical fruit,
The more you eat the more you toot,
The more you toot the better you feel,
So let's have beans for every meal!
My dad
You're my little potato,
You're my little potato,
I dug you up,
You came from underground.
Choir of Concordia College, Moorhead, written by Malcolm Dalglish
Mairzy doats and dozy doats
And little lambs eat ivy
A kiddle eat ivy too,
Wouldn't you?
The Merry Macs, and others, 1940s
There's a bright, golden haze on the meadow
There's a bright, golden haze on the meadow.
The corn is as high as an elephant's eye
And it looks like it's climbing clear up to the sky.
Oklahoma!
I'm as corny as Kansas in August,
I'm as normal as blueberry pie.
No more a smart little girl with no heart,
I have found me a wonderful guy!
South Pacific
As the grains of wheat
Once scattered on the hill
Are gathered into one to become our bread,
So may all Your people,
From all the ends of earth,
Be gathered into one in You.
--Communion liturgy, Marty Haugen
Love lives again, that in the grave has been.
Love has come again like wheat arising green.
--French Easter hymn
I can mash-potato
And I can do the twist
Do You Love Me?
The Contours
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