NIX ZAPZARAPP MEINE SCHOKOLADE

As soon as I convince myself that food is not my friend
This one-sided relationship will all come to an end
Each day when I arise I pledge an archetypal goal
To overcome the food addition pulling on my soul

But as the day goes forward, problems start to come around
The vending machine calls me and my love jones comes on down

Food shouldn’t be my buddy, nor my solace when I’m sad
Not what to do when I’m alone or feeling really bad

I can’t find myself in popcorn, there’s no counseling in chips
This love affair’s not working out; I see it on my hips

I utilize my pantry like a confessional booth
But it’s really not where I should go when looking for the truth

For many years I’ve searched and searched for pairs of loving eyes
Those I find are on potatoes - or my skinny lover – fries

I look for comfort in the coolness of a milkshake’s sweet embrace
It seems to be what I need but – it’s showing in my face

I love the crunch of fried fish once it’s bubbled in hot grease
But back fat rolls as a result make sexiness decrease

I always think I’ll overcome but alas and alack
The smell of rising dough just seems to stab me in the back

This symbiant feeds off me as I gorge upon its flesh
And my attempts to conquer it are marginal at best
The truthful path to happiness is what I most desire
But yet the path I choose to walk is paved with tight attire

Buying bigger clothes would be a way to make amends but
Money is a joke that I discuss with all my friends

Vanity keeps me from moving on to larger sizes
Self-esteem flees from me with my morning scale surprises

Pain becomes a part of me when I put on my jeans
Because of how the waistband cuts so deep into my spleen

There are the times I launch a siege and race off to the gym
I cut out all the dirty carbs and find myself in Zen

But alas my lover follows me and sings a sweet sweet song
Of a tired, broken lady who has worked out far too long

Of pudding pops and ice cream which I certainly deserve
Cause in kickboxing they tortured me and worked up quite a nerve

Of Cheez-Its and Doritos and all kinds of savory treats
Because “After all, I did work out, I should get something neat!”

Food. Not song, or dance, or even following my dreams
Not writing funny poems or saying silly things
Not feeling good, not working hard, not fitting in my clothes
Filling my gut with sustenance but not filling the holes

This relationship waits for me at the end of every day
It’s never late; it’s always there faithful in every way

You have to ask yourself sometimes, “What kind of friend is that?”
Who gives me what I think I want no matter how I act?
Is this the friend I want to keep, the one who fills my needs
Or is this just a mind-screw consummating my foul deeds

My ankles swell, my belly too, my butt hangs kinda’ low
I can sit in for the fat girl during any vaudeville show - but

As soon as I convince myself that food is not my friend
This one-sided relationship will all come to an end
Today when I arise I’ll pledge an archetypal goal
To overcome this food addition pulling on my soul