|Hi, my name is Petunia,
I'm as lucky as can be,
Because I wasn't born a hog,
I'm pot bellied as you can see.
The barn next door has lots of hogs,
In mud they have to stay,
While I live in a house,
And with a family I get to play.
We are the same, those hogs and me,
Cept my tail's not curled its straight,
And they have great big floppy ears,
While mine are small and sedate.
I get to go out in the yard,
Eat flowers and dig the ground,
But if a hog was to do that,
He would not be around.
It's really great to live with folks,
Who don't know what I am,
I know that I will never be,
Some bacon or a ham.
I'll go inside and chew a shirt,
Eat a shoe and then some cake,
And they just pat me on the head,
Tell me goodnight, it's getting late.
I waddle off to find my bed,
With my blankets too you see,
For I am Petunia the pot belly pig,
And I'm as lucky as I can be.
|music: Green Acres|