My preference, when dining,
Is for meat in stomach lining
Near my heart, a
Chipolata,
It's for sausages I'm pining.
It would take a mighty army
To keep me from my salami,
I'm in heaven
Eating devon,
O, for me, a minced tsunami.
I'm desperate and strung out
Without my fix of hoof and snout,
My heart bursts
For all the wursts,
To me, they're all that life's about.
My delectation won't abate
When there's a wiener on my plate,
I give thanks
For simple franks,
And for the chance to masticate.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
You know, you could probably shoehorn "frottage" into a rhyme with said word. Though I don't know if that's quite the level of passion you'd wish to convey for a banger.
Speaking of which, I have cold ones for lunch. Hurrah!
Post a Comment