I'm called Little Butterball, Dear Little Butterball, 'Though I could never tell why. My calories mount. My cholesterol count Is as high as an elephant's eye. They told me to diet. I promised I'd try it, Yet somehow my weight would not budge. Each Metrecal cookie To me tasted ookie, So I covered it with hot fudge. I ate watercresses, And other such messes, And pushed all my favorites aside. I said to the caterers, "No more mashed potaterers, Just baked, and hash browned, and french fried." I sing this sad song 'Cause my diet went wrong, 'Though I honestly tried to pay heed. I don't care how high Is an elephant's eye, But an elephant's rear I don't need!