The chewing now is over
The 'gnawing at the bone'
Sausages burnt to a cinder
Tomatoes underdone
Bacon far too crispy
See the yolks run and run!
Rounded off with Heinz baked beans
And a well-grilled onion.
Transport cafe breakfast
In amongst the jasmine breeze
An intruder, nay, impostor
Is floating through the trees
The English are a-frying
A meal that's sure to please
Traditional early morning fare
To bring you to your knees.
On balconies up and down this land
After a sit-down on the loo
The Tommy starts his day the way
His mummy taught him to
And if, perchance, you see him
In clouds of grease-filled smoke
Don't laugh; the English Breakfast
Is no-one's fucking joke.
Woods 2009
I think I spoilt it in the last line.
