I still remember grandmas advice, on bringing in the new year
She'd make us all eat black eyed peas, a memory I hold dear
We were told that it would bring us luck, and us children hid our smirks
It's amazing how although we've grown, we hold on to our quirks
Never mind the fact, I broke my foot, exactly on the first
And all the while I suffered, I was told it could have been worse
The source of this tradition is vague, unclear and much in doubt
Yet come New Years, I will indeed, have a mess of peas in my mouth.