WFWilma Flintstone, Betty Rubble
[singing] Here we come / On the run / With a burger on a bun / And a dab of coleslaw on the side / Oh, your tastes we will tickle / With a cold dill pickle / And all of our potatoes are French fried, fried, fried / Our burgers can't be beat / Cuz we grind our own meat / Grind, grind, grind, grind, grind! / Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble... / Are to blame for all this trouble... [spoken] And if they think that we'll forget... [sung] They're outta their mind, mind, mind, mind, mi-i-ind!
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