The Scrapple Song

Lyrics

[Verse 1] The mom-and-pop diners 'round Allentown Don't really have much that a fella can hold down And the folks up 'round Philly and Bethlehem Ain't gourmet types, really, or chef-ly men Now, they're God-fearin' folk in that Keystone State But their food ain't fit for a collection plate There's things for all kinds of people to hate But there's one that everybody loves [Chorus 1] And they call it scrapple, scrapple Corned and steamed, and hogmeat dappled Set by the window 'til it's cold and hard Sliced up thick and fried in lard Hey what's that swimmin' in the big red pan That's kickin' up all this mania? It's scrapple, scrapple The pride of Pennsylvania [Verse 2] Well, way down yonder by the Ford Corsair Billy's got his hands in Betty Sue's hair Shakin' and a-steamin' up the Roadmaster We can see him but we can't see her Well Mama's in the kitchen and she might see "Billy better leave your sister be!" But he jumps from the Buick to the dining room When he gets a whiff of that pig perfume [Chorus 2] It's scrapple, scrapple Hearty as a t-bone, slippery as a tadpole Any old part of the hog will do Neck and the nipples, and the toenails too Hey what's that swimmin' in the big red pan That's kickin' up all this mania? It's scrapple, scrapple The pride of Pennsylvania [Verse 3] Well up in the pen, 'neath the big shade tree The laziest hog you ever did see Stiff in the joints and slow in the head That fat boy'd be better off dead So grab your hammer and away we'll fly To splatter his brains all around the sty Then we'll be livin' in a world of dreams Chuggin' down scrapple 'til we bust our jeans [Chorus 3] It's scrapple, scrapple Didn't bring a plate? Then fork you a hatful Workin' in the field till the sun goes down Grandma's whipped up twenty-five pounds Hey what's that swimmin' in the big red pan That's kickin' up all this mania? It's scrapple, scrapple The pride of Pennsylvania It's scrapple, scrapple The pride of Pennsylvania