As I drive my stomach starts to rumble
I'm not looking for something all that great
Just something that will silence this grumble
I see a sign on the side of the street
Yellow block letters; a beacon of hope
It is here I will find something to eat
Now my night does gain a positive slope
I order more than I know that I should
I wolf down that bacon and those cheese grits
I don't care because it tastes really good
I will eat until my pants do the splits!
Alas I must go I can write no more
For wielding pen and fork is quite a chore
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