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The Night They Invented Poutine

Crackpots
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Lyrics
The Night They Invented Poutine
The night they invented Poutine, it was the most peculiar scene.
Jeanette Renault was shy and thin, the Nordiques began to win.
In which a parasol sang, God save the Queen.
The night they invented Poutine.
The night they invented Poutine.
No one knows the precise origin.
Where or when this food did begin, everybody in Quebec will tell you with a grin.
It was their little village that invented the Poutine.
To be really authentic, the potatoes must be old.
The gravy must be hot and the cheese must be cold.
With a journaud, the boreal, wherever it is sold, serve with a roll in a bowl by a troll.
You put some potatoes and some cheese in a tin, but the cheese won't melt till you put the gravy in.
Then it sticks to your fork and it dribbles down your chin, and that's how you know that you're eating a Poutine.
If the French fries are greasy and the gravy's nice and hot, the cheese curds melt as they come out of the pot.
Once in your stomach, they congeal into a knot. If your food does that, Poutine is what they got.
Some use mozzarella, but that isn't really it, and they serve it at McDonald's, but the French fries are shit.
And we hate to be picky, but we have to admit, it's hard to eat when the cook has a zit.
Well, there's no way anyone would call it whole cuisine.
It isn't really junk food, it's something in between, but it's better than a burger or a Mike's submarine.
A balanced diet is a beard of a tin. Hey!
Thank you.
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