Three Times a Burger

This song was written as a submission for Wendy’s Search for Sizzlin’ Sounds Contest, in which Wendy’s sought to judge the best song about hamburgers. Learn more about Potluck’s custom songwriting service which uses Appreciative Inquiry to draw out your needs and desires as the basis for an original song.

Listen to .mp3 sample of Three Times a Burger.

Sung by Mark S. Meritt.Circle P - Phonorecord Copyright 2007, 2000 Mark S. Meritt

Watch a video of a solo piano version right here by just pressing Play immediately below. Or, visit YouTube to see the video or post a comment.

Learn about Potluck’s piano/keyboard performance services.

Lyrics

In the morning when I’m wakin’
I’m craving to get on a course that’s right
But I don’t want no eggs and bacon
They might be fine for some, but they don’t whet my own appetite

My buddy Chuck knows there’s no fakin’
The only thing on Earth to fill my need
Though the day’s just begun
He hops inside of a bun
And makes the one thing on which I feed

For every meal I have a burger
So nice and round, three squares a day
Broil or grill it
Fry it up in a skillet
Long as I get my fill it’ll all be OK

‘Cause everyday’s three times a burger
The finest choice, U.S.D.A.
Twice won’t suffice
Entice with me thrice
Paradise, any price I would pay

My good friend Patty, she’s a luscious hotty
And with me, she’s got a hunch
That the only way to please such a man of taste
Is takin’ a break with a burger for lunch

But even that was just a teaser
When dinner rolls around with good Sir Loin
He helps me to bake
Well done Salisbury steak
And my ache turns into enjoyin’

‘Cause everyday’s three times a burger
Give me the bait, and I will bite
Don’t want fish or chicken
With burgers I’m stickin’
‘Round the clock as it’s tickin’, from morning to night

Yes, everyday’s three times a burger
And if it’s wrong, don’t wanna be right
When I get no meat
I feel incomplete
Triple treat’s my dining delight

‘Cause I’m a burger-eatin’ junkie
And if it was against the law
I’d still get my fixin’
To feed my addiction
It’s such an affliction, I’d swallow ’em raw

And when I die and go to heaven
Buy the farm and greet Saint Pete
It won’t be so strange
I’ll be at home on the range
With one change: there’ll be all I can eat!

© 2007 Mark S. Meritt; © 2000 Mark S. Meritt and Richard Hack

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *