The Yam’s the Thing

What are we all here fighting it for
A few dozen acres of this frozenized ground
Indeed, Candide, the yam is the thing
Tonight, indeed, there’s enough to go ‘round

Enough of the yam in its racinate form
Enough of these tubers and their tubular sound
Indeed, Candide, on a plate of dried peas
There’s a need, indeed, and enough to go ‘round

A scoop of I am on your ellipsis has formed
Excused for excuses where the tubers are found
Indeed, candied is the form that's preferred
And some yams, I am, are enough to go ‘round