The little can that could,
In a universe of wood,
it alone was made of aluminum,
clanging a metallic thrum,
a solitary tone, a little cheery melody.
Who is that little metal can?
How does it live so happily?
Please tell me; I'm a big fan.
A myriad doors in front of you,
which one will you choose?
Imagine you guess it wrong,
imagine you don't get it right,
you only stand to lose.
So sing yourself a merry song,
and don't you dare put up a fight.
Stay right there in your place,
and please, do wear a happy face.