I used to buy my ramen,
From an oppressive ramen regime,
The girl who worked there, she seemed happy,
But I knew it was not what it seemed.
"Do you want miso pork with that?"
Was what they made her say,
But in the language of Shinobi,
That means "help I'm a kunoichi in chains"
I wanted to free her,
In my dreams,
I would see her,
Running naked around the village square.
I leaned across the counter,
We would talk,
I carved her name 'Hinata'
On a little wooden chopstick.
But into the stall
Came some sand ninja,
They snatched the chopstick,
From my hand.
They grabbed three more,
Sticks and a long kunai,
And fashioned a dog shaped,
Kunai toy.
Hinata, she looked at me,
To assert my masculinity,
I said "Gaara!"
He said "What?!"
I said "nothing"