I saw the the fun vacation of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the promised picnic.
Pleasant, prolonged, promised picnic.
Now amusing is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the promised picnic is diverting.
The cake that’s really moreish,
Above all others is the gateau.
Does the gateau make you do la la la?
I cannot help but stop and look at fat, stale scones.
“Shrrr”, said the stale scones,
And “shrrr” then “shrrr” again.
Don’t believe that the big burger is little?
the big burger is big beyond belief.
Why is it so big?
A Scottish shortbread, however hard it tries,
Will always be moist.
Never forget the dampish and wet Scottish shortbread.
I saw the the crisp cake of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the big biscuit.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the big biscuit,
Gently it goes – the crispy, the frosty, the nippy.