~ To the tune of “My Favorite Things”

Dry angel cakes that taste nearly not quite right

Canned macaroons looking good in the right light

Breads which don’t rise and about which we sing

These are a few of our unleavened things

Moon-shaped and jellied, those candies turn real hard

The taste of the cereal, like the boxes we discard

Matzah ball soup, to our stomach it clings

These are a few of our unleavened things.

When the night comes and I eat tons, and I’m feeling fat

I simply remember they’re Pesadik things

And my tummy feels… more flat!

haggadah Section: Songs