Oh pistachio, trapped in your shell.
I look for an opening, but where I can\'t tell.
The rest in the bowl can all go to hell.
I can only imagine your taste from your smell.
So I squeeze you so tightly, but not very well.
And you fall to the floor which dings like a bell.
I apply pressure grinding my teeth,
excited to see what could lie beneath.
It\'s getting to the point where I\'ve tried and I\'ve tried.
I guess, I need to go see where the nutcracker resides.
I push ever so gently, to not damage your meat.
But try as I might, I suffer defeat.
So I go to the garage, to look for some tools.
Oh why does love, make us such fools.