Little Polly has a good job
Working in a berry patch
Twenty cents a quart she’s paid
Unfortunately, there’s a catch
She has a quota to fill
For her, it isn’t very easy
She eats every other berry
Her stomach, it gets queasy
Money, she doesn’t make much
But to her, that’s all right
She never does go hungry
Has a belly full every night
She does just barely enough
To not get herself fired
Would have to do something stupid
Something ridiculously dire
Every day she goes to work
Down in that berry patch
Stuffing her face fast as she can
She eats half of her batch
Her boss, he was losing money
His berry supply, it dwindled
He had to do something
He felt he was being swindled
Little Polly, she got fired
No more berries will she pick
Her stomach problems haven’t stopped
Now rhubarb makes her sick!
She takes a bite and grimaces
But she eats it anyway
The bitterness makes her gag
She eats two pounds a day
Rhubarb, it makes you go
It cleans you out real quick
That is if you really like it
And it doesn’t make you sick
Her new boss, he likes her
His crop, not much she eats
The rhubarb, it is safe
She spends time on the toilet seat