On Top of Spaghetti
(to the tune of "On Top of Old Smokey")

On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese,
I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed.
It rolled off the table and onto the floor,
And then my poor meatball rolled out of the door.
It rolled through the garden and under a bush,
And then my poor meatball was nothing but mush.
The mush was as fertile, as fertile could be,
And later that summer, there sprouted a tree.
The tree was all covered with beautiful moss,
And on it grew meatballs in tomato sauce.

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