ketchup bottle song

The refrigerator opened by itself tonight Weird because I had closed it good and tight Ketchup bottle fell out to dance along the floor We watched, expecting a few escapees more Maybe mustard and jelly would be along shortly And that apple butter jar that was a bit portly But nothing else flipped out or seemed at all wrong The ketchup bottle began a tomato song We were tomatoes, all round and red. Loving our life in the garden bed But we were taken out and crucified Now we are ketchup, buried deep inside Oh woe is us, this was a horrible fate. You do not care; pouring us on a plate A little respect for our death, you brute. I said to my husband “that was kind of cute.”