Lyrics
Intro solo voice, boot stomps
Four cups of chili and lids by the ton
But not one of them fits, no, not one, not a one
This is Worst Song Ever #22
So pull up a stool and I'll sing it to you
Verse 1
'Twas a Sunday at seven, the supper was through
I had chili to save in a tub that was blue
So I knelt by the drawer at the foot of the stove
Where the plastic goes down like a pirate's lost trove
I pulled out a square one, I pulled out a round
I pulled out a lid for a tub never found
I pulled out a lid from a yogurt I ate
In two thousand and nine on a very bad date
Chorus
Heave ho! Where'd the bottom go?
I've a lid in my hand and a hole in my soul
The blue one's too big and the red one won't close
Heave ho! Where'd the bottom go?
Verse 2
So I called up my brother, my cousins, and Lou
And a man from the ward who owns a canoe
We tied on a rope and they lowered me in
Past the cookie sheet reef where the muffin tins spin
There were lids from the eighties, all faded and sad
There was one marked in Sharpie, "PROPERTY OF DAD"
There's a crock pot lid that we lent to the Pratts
And a Cool Whip lid with a colony of bats
Chorus
Heave ho! Where'd the bottom go?
I've a lid in my hand and a hole in my soul
The blue one's too big and the red one won't close
Heave ho! Where'd the bottom go?
Verse 3
Now I'm forty days down and my beard's getting long
I've been rationing chili and singing this song
I have named every ladle, I've married a whisk
And the whisk says we're happy, but I sense a risk
And the lantern grows dim where the Tupperware sleeps
And I hear something breathing down there in the deeps
Bridge spoken, low drone
And there she rose. The mother of all bottoms.
Forty feet wide. Pale as a dinner plate. Burp-sealed since 1973.
Bridge sung, huge choir
She's the Container of Containers
She's the Tub of all Tubs
She has room for every leftover
Since the dawn of casserole clubs
Breakdown call and response
Will she fit? (Will she fit?)
Lay the lid on the rim (On the rim!)
Press the corners down (Press 'em down!)
Now we listen for the...
Silence
Tiny plastic click
Final Chorus key change, double time
Heave ho! Now the bottom's found!
Every corner is sealed and the chili is sound
I'll be buried with this lid when they lower me down
Heave ho! Now the bottom's found!
Outro spoken, a woman's voice from upstairs
Honey... we have sandwich bags.
Gang shout
HEAVE HO!