[Verse 1: Frat-rock male lead, pounding live drums, fuzzy overdriven guitar riff, raw shouting frat-rock vocal] Hey hey, I put a sign up on the elevator wall Potluck in 3B, bring a dish and tell 'em all I smoked a rack of ribs for nineteen hours straight I said y'all bring the sides, y'all fill up every plate First knock on the door, it's Rosa from the end Big bowl of potato salad and a smile for a friend Second knock, it's Hank, with a bowl under his arm Potato salad, Danny, it's my mama's from the farm Third knock, potato salad, fourth knock, the same Fifth knock had a sticker with the grocery store's name [Hook: Frat-rock male lead, full band, rowdy shouted frat-rock chorus] It's the luck of the pot, baby, take what you got Fourteen bowls of potato salad on the counter top Hey hey, alright now, c'mon and get it while it's cold Same old bowl, same old bowl, and it never gets old [Verse 2: Frat-rock male lead, driving bass guitar, fuzzy overdriven guitar riff, raw shouting frat-rock vocal] Mustard one, mayo one, one with little eggs on top One with bacon, one with pickles, one I had to make 'em stop Mrs. Chen brought hers in a dish from her wedding day Kid from 3C brought a bowl he made with his own hands, okay Every single neighbor stood there starin' at the spread Everybody thought that everybody else would bring the bread Fourteen bowls in a row like a parade of the same And the ribs in the middle lookin' lonely in the frame Then Rosa grabbed a scoop and said, where the forks at, Dan And I looked at the drawer and I looked at my hands [Hook: Frat-rock male lead, full band, rowdy shouted frat-rock chorus] It's the luck of the pot, baby, take what you got Fourteen bowls of potato salad on the counter top Hey hey, alright now, c'mon and get it while it's cold Same old bowl, same old bowl, and it never gets old [Bridge: Frat-rock male lead, lid clatter on the snare, the lids piling up louder each bar] Pop the lids, pop the lids, throw 'em on the stack Ain't a fork on the floor, so we ain't holdin' back Fingers in the mustard, fingers in the mayo Hank is doin' the twist with a rib like a halo Mrs. Chen licked her thumb and said this one is mine And the whole third floor was dancin' in the line [Final Hook: Frat-rock male lead, full band, rowdy shouted frat-rock chorus] It's the luck of the pot, baby, take what you got Fourteen bowls of potato salad on the counter top Hey hey, alright now, c'mon and get it while it's cold Same old bowl, same old bowl, and it never gets old [Outro: Frat-rock male lead, pounding live drums, fuzzy guitar riff] Next month in 3B, the sign is on the wall Bring a fork, bring a fork, for the love of it, y'all [End]
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