One day,
it will be that other day,
the day when clams play tag before
they're collected in a bag,cooked inside
the cooking *** in the sauce of dreams,
and such a lot of sauce there'll be.

Even on the beach where sand runs free and
tides run low there is always someone who
wants to go and **** something,to bring the
dinner home into the cooking zone.

Clams are such sweet cutie pies as blind as bats,
and do they have eyes at all? but
they fall into the tender trap of
thinking thin when in actual fact
they're someone's fat.
That
is such a shame,
perhaps if they played hide and seek
no one could peek into their hidey holes and
they'd become the saviour of their souls.

Do clams have souls or does this question
open up a can of worms and why are worms in cans?

There is a certain charm attached to being a clam
and man would do well to understand
that each and everything's but a grain of sand
upon the beach,
sometimes we overreach ourselves
and shellfish are the things we take to
break upon the rocks of life.