Life on the Edge ~ Brent Harris
It is not as close to Spanish as you think
Nor, I assure you, does it taste like chicken
Although we are much closer to the brink
And, believe you me, the plot does thicken
I cannot tell you this with a nod and a wink
It makes my dry mouth, my pulse quicken
Left it all too late, we may let glasses clink
Should we do otherwise, even as we sicken
But smile, sing, laugh and into darkness sink
Yet we lie, know it cannot taste like chicken
It contains all elements from a through zinc
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