There is a Sad Café somewhere,
The subject of this ballad
And if you end up there for lunch
You might get Pie Plate Salad.
The menu features foods which are
Quite Gross, yet Quick and Easy
Ensconced in horrid see-through gel
Which makes a person queasy.
Oh, Pie Plates that in kitchens lurk
What wicked impulse must
Fill them with this revolting gel
Instead of fruit and crust?
Who, tell me who, thinks this is food,
Where horrid veggies gleam
Under a clear top layer, like
Bits of a scary dream?
Perhaps a housewife sick of kitchen,
Pot and salad spinner,
Who said: I’ll give them something new,
And take revenge on dinner!
Or maybe the admen took advice
From some facetious granny
Who cooked this horror up for fun,
To make what’s canned uncanny.
And so if you should see this Pie
Pity the hapless diner,
And then escape by foot or car
Plane, bus or ocean liner.