They're red, they're white, they're brown They get that way underground There can't be much to do So now they have blue ones too We don't care what they look like we'll eat them Any way they can fit on our plate Every way we can conjure to heat them We're delighted and think they're just great Potato potato potato potato Potato potato potato potato Potato potato potato potato Potato Sometimes we ditch the skin To eat what it's holding in Sometimes we'd rather please Have just the outside with cheese They have eyes but they do not have faces I don't know if their feelings get hurt By just hanging around in dark places Where they only can stare at the dirt Potato potato potato potato Potato potato potato potato Potato potato potato potato Potato I guess the use is scant For other parts of the plant But that which grows in view Is eating potato too I imagine them under their acres Out in Idaho and up in Maine Maybe wondering if they'll be bakers Or knishes or latkes or plain Potato potato potato potato Potato potato potato potato Potato potato potato potato Potato Potato potato potato potato potato