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!