How the World Should Work

Oh my God

I never sod

Sod the catch

Of yesteryear

But if I must

Well I’m unjust

Unjust if I don’t make this clear

There is food

Yes it’s good

Good and all you want to hear

It comes from south

It’s what we’re ‘bout

The taste will tell your tongue, oh dear

Bless your heart

We’re years apart

The gravy, and the mash sets in

You do not know

Anything

Until a Meat and Three Sets In