Rubber Shoe
Lunchbox people live in a rubber shoe.
Kind of like the way we use to do.
It is strange living this way;
I must admit.
Held up in such tight conditions everyday
Coated with rubber cement.
But my kinfolk are mighty and many.
We seek only meat, cheese, bread and mayo.
Chips and a pop resting beside a frozen blue thing.
Sometimes it's cold and other times are disturbingly warm—
In our rubber shoe that feels like I'm melting. ...
Lunchbox people living in a rubber shoe.
Kind of like the way we use to do.
Soles full of souls sound like these folk have a clue!
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