Nothing could prepare you
For the food that you chew
No one man can digest
All the overstuffed mess
And this food you don't eat
It's a kind of conceit
Flowing out like a river
Enough for your liver
What is the obvious connection
Between conceit and a glutton?
It could be that they pop buttons
It's not like all gluttons are bad
Or conceited or fat or mad
Encompassed through yourself
Humility is shelved
Deviled eggs are your taste
Other foods you take haste
Never see other goals
Other than suit your role
Flowing out like a river
Not just by a sliver