I've been sleeping all night, my head's flat on the bed, And there's a gurlge in my gut that demands to be fed. It's my stomach calling, saying 'man let's eat!' And it's a half past 4, and I'm on my feet. When I get hungry though I know I've had enough, I'll raid the kitchen and my mouth I will stuff, It doesn't have to be warm or hot, We've got a thing, that's called Radar Range The food comes out looking mighty strange We've got a thing that's called... ...Radar Range. No more food, I'm almost there, Got to lie back now, got to take care. There's a last piece of pie now here I got And the mass in my throat goes down real slow. Freezer freeze that forgotten food, I'll heat it up and eat it stewed, And the coffee gets cold, sitting brewed, OH ONE MORE RADAR RANGE IS SCREWED! (chorus, repeat, fade out)