Ode To Beef Lips, Ground Hooves And Rectal Membranes

These are the dogs of the U.S. of A.
Yes these are the dogs of our land
And each one’s prepared in its own special way
A nationwide tour in your hand

A hot dog’s a hot dog wherever you go
At a barbecue or baseball game
But our regional tastes are diverse and they show
In the way we don’t serve dogs the same

Chicagoans load up their hot dogs like mad
And they serve them in poppy-seed buns
Cucumbers, onions and more can be had
But ketchup, that just isn’t done

Seattle frankfurters have cream cheese on top
New Jersey puts taters on theirs
If you go to Connecticut, make sure to stop
For the fried dogs that Rawley’s prepares

Georgia’s are “scrambled” with onions and beans
D.C. has half-smokes from Ben’s
But my favorite regional dog that I’ve seen
Is a Coney Dog from Michigan

These are the dogs of the U.S. of A.
Yes these are the dogs of our land
And each one’s prepared in its own special way
A nationwide tour in your hand

Wear this shirt: to cover your own unappetizing “natural casing.”

Don’t wear this shirt: without a bib, or you’ll get chili, sauerkraut, cheese, relish, onions, peppers, melted cheese, mustard and tomatoes on it.

This shirt tells the world: “As the Buddhist monk said to the hot dog man, make me one with everything.”

We call this color: Red Hots Here, Getcha Red Hots

Back to top