Down in Monterey the artichokes grow,
Towsey headed artichokes, row after row.
They grow in Monterey 'cause it's comfortable there,
They like the sandy bottom and the cool salt air.
When you eat an artichoke you take a little bite,
Stick you in the finger if you don't hold it right.
Take a little nibble, throw away the rest,
Enough left over for a google-birdie nest.