He loved he breakfast, loved his lunch—
He really loved his meals a bunch.
He loved his supper, midnight snacks.
But then … here came his heart attacks.
He’d added weight—he wasn’t well—
’Twas Gluttony sent him to Hell.
He asked old Satan, “What’s to eat?”
“Oh, we have lots of roasted feet!”
That sounded good, so down he sat,
And eating feet, he kept his fat.