Kosher Dog, oh Kosher Dog,

You fill my tummy well,

Kosher Dog, oh Kosher Dog,

Oh how I love your smell,

Kosher Dog, oh Kosher Dog,

To you there is no equal,

You find a way to love me,

(Though) I'm not of the Chosen People,

You tell me to chop onions,

Mushrooms, olives, for your favor,

Cucumber, relish, mayo,

To accentuate your flavor,

"Make sure my bun is toasted,

In the oven if you please,

Sourdough or rye bread,

Grated mozzarella cheese".

Kosher Dog, oh Kosher Dog,

I've been out all night drinking,

My friends were chasing women,

Thoughts of you: all I've been thinking,

Ok I chased some women too,

But most of them were moody,

The brunette I struck out with,

Holds no candle to your beauty,

And it's true, I'm far from gorgeous,

I'm no Harry Belafonte,

I dress you up all sexy,

Mustard, ketchup, and picante,

But it's 4am oh Kosher Dog,

I know you'll find this boring,

But for now,

I must pass out,

And eat you in the morning.

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Author guidance for This poem

Anyone can feel free to add whatever they want to this. The theme should be self-explanatory.

Full stomachs need not apply!

updated Aug 12 '10 by SeeThomasHowl