Dug up from the ground unaware of their fate,
Dinner Plate of the man is at hand
Thrown into the oven at 375
Covered in foil and baked alive
Others are sliced and cut apart
Deep fried in oil, its truly an art
And the rest that are left are bereft of breath
As they wait for their turn to be smashed


Now its time to meet the fry creator
He's the spud eliminator
The tater-tot intolerator
The one and only Smash Potater

Lyrics submitted by sepultura1987

Smash Potater song meanings
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