When Darren's fridge is short of food
  He won't go to the shops.
He won't sweep floors for stray popcorn
  Or missing lollipops.

He won't eat out in restaurants
  Like senseless, spendthrift fools.
He'll simply go down to the shed
  Containing all his tools.

He'll make his food from bits of planks
  With nuts and bolts and nails.
Fools can pay a fortune for
  Their meal of frogs and snails.

He's satisfied with plywood pies
  And eggs of oak or pine.
He'll use their yolks for cakes he makes
  That smell of turpentine.

Some desserts have wires and gears
  And some make ticking sounds.
On Christmas Day he cooked the hare
  Who raced and fooled greyhounds.

He made a cake that tasted bland.
  He only ate one slice.
He found that he could use it as
  A pest-control device.