Twilight Pickle

Somewhere in a quiet kitchen

There's a guy starting to realize

That his midnight snack has got it's grip on him

It's two A.M.

It's two A.M.  (It's two A.M.)

The hunger's on  (Hunger's on)

And that refrigerator's open  (Refrigerator)

The gumbo's all gone  (The gumbo's all gone)

I weigh my selection; it's time to make a sandwich

I got butter on my fingers

Bread crumbs over there

Slices of the roast beef

And pepper in the air

Yearning a ghirkin

When my whole night spins into a frenzy

Help, I'm gripping onto a kaiser roll

Pickles almost out, seems I'm needing more

My buttery hands blunder and "ooh", I snarl

How am I to open that cold pickle jar

Soon you will have no more

When the pickles hit the floor

Soon you will have no more

When the pickles hit the floor

They're falling down in slow-mo

Destination the floor

These are not condiments

Anymore

Can't get no connection

Can't grip too

What to do?

Well the night weighs heavy on his hungry mind

This jar's full of picklebrine

When the pickles fall

He knows darn well he has to clean it

And he says, help, I'm gripping onto a kaiser roll

Pickles almost out, seems I'm needing more

My buttery hands blunder and "ooh", I snarl

How am I to open that cold pickle jar?

Soon you will have no more

When the pickles hit the floor

Soon you will have no more

When the pickles hit the floor

When the pickles hit the floor