It’s hard to have a peanuts life,
the things that people do;
they use you in their arts and crafts
and cover you in paint and glue.
If you want to use our bodies
for your crafts, games, and fun,
please have a conscience will you,
and be kind with the glue gun.
You start your life with promise,
for the things that you could be,
till a villain comes and roasts you;
eats your insides with hungry glee.
Oh, the joy of single ground nuts,
simply left to meet their fate;
to grow into a brand-new plant,
all they have to do is wait.
Unlike our cousin tree nuts,
we lie under the ground;
simply waiting to emerge and grow,
or as a treasure to be found.
We give food to little creatures,
who depend upon us too,
and get put inside bird feeders
for a cause that’s good and true.
But worst of all they farm us,
deprive the animals we feed,
taking every single ground nut;
leaving no-one to re-seed.
So, feel sorry for us peanuts,
for the things that people do;
maybe take a few and plant us,
so our numbers can re-new.