What's In My Hotdog

No one seems to know, no one seems to know, no one seems to want to know...
But I want to know, I got to know, oh I need to know... what’s in my hotdog
What’s in my hotdog, what’s in my hotdog, what’s in my hotdog
No one wants to know
There’s earlobes, eyelids, elbows, and fingertips
Dog nose, pig glands, frog bits, and chicken lips
Hog butts, peanuts, cow guts, brains
Toe jam, turkey spam, vericose veins
Oh, what’s in my hotdog, what’s in my hotdog, what’s in my hotdog
No one wants to know
What’s in my hotdog, what’s in my hotdog, what’s in my hotdog
No one wants to know
There’s moose colon, horse bladder, anything that goes splatter
Half ton of puppy tongues, bucketful of camel lungs
Big hairy goat tails, dirty donkey toenails
Stuffed into an fabulous, edibile, delectable, deep-fried, something died...
Intestinal shell… intestinal shell...
Now I know...
What’s in my hotdog, what’s in my hotdog, what’s in my hotdog
I was better off not knowing
Now chunks I will be blowing
And cookies I’ll be throwing
My insides will be showing
I guess I really didn’t need to know...
What’s in my hotdog
What’s in my hotdog
What’s in my hotdog
I think I got a fever
I’m feeling kind of strange
My head feels like a whoopie cushion
My hands are a little clammy
I really want to die
Uh, maybe we should take you to the hotdog factory...
You could be the secret ingredient... yeah!
Aaaagh!