We're buried in soil small and alone
Then taken out fast, after we've grown,
We're taken back home to have our shower
Then put into bags 'Potato power!'
We're put in dark boxes which give us the creep
Then are sold to these people, they sell us quite cheap,
When put in an oven, saucepan or grill
It burns us to death not gives us the chill,
We're placed upon plates with gravy as hair
These humans get ready, sat on their chair,
They pick up their fork and saw with their knife
That is the end of potato's life!