My Friend George
George Foreman is a friend of mine,
Of many times we chill.
Times together that we dine,
But not the man that you assign,
For George, he is a grill.
Of grills, he is the number one,
Which helps make meals a-gorge.
Or for a little bit more fun,
You can get the 5 in 1,
Of my friend, we call the George.
A waffle or a steak,
A burger or a weiner,
Sure there’s no mistake,
Whatever is you make,
It makes a little leaner.
For as it starts to cook,
The grease comes rolling down.
It forms a little brook,
The trap, it gives a look,
A pond of greasy brown.
Surely one can never doubt,
The bond that we did forge,
A partnership of greatest clout,
Winning meals at every bout,
Just me and my friend George.
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