I imagine your medium voice,
Medium sweet, medium rare—
Oh, that sounds like a steak!
I chew on it and rejoice!
So juicy and tender and fair!
Oh you, my dear medium one!
Please, don’t ever be well done!
My teeth might fall from my mouth,
My indigestion go south,
While you would be laughing so
At my bone-breaking fall below!
And then, out of pity for me,
You’d kindly croak out a song.
I’d shout, “Please croak more mediumly;
My ears, they are not so strong!”
Then you’d speak in your medium rare voice
And I’d chew, and sigh, and rejoice.