Death Of A Sandwich-Man One fine day the Sandwich-Man Decided to make the best sandwich in the land. He'd make it from the freshest bread, And use some of that delicious spread. It would be 6 feet wide and 10 feet tall, He would invite everyone, he would invite them all To experience his sandwich with him, The sandwich he'd made that was fit for a King. He finished that sandwich this much is true, And he invited me, and he invited you. Outside his house there was a mighty line, And they were all waiting for opening time. Now the Crowd grew restless, and the line grew long, And within seconds it all had went wrong. They barged into his house you see. Everyone. Including me. He went down hard, and he went down fast, Trampled by everyone trying to get past, To get to the sandwich he had made them all That was I front of them standing 10 foot tall. The Sandwich-Man, he was trampled to death, By the crowds of mouth he once had fed. Their gluttony had consumed them all, Taken over their minds and their very soul.