The Sausage.

the sausage is rather the strange fellow,
made of pork, cumberland, or coloured yellow.

yellow i speak. yellow, you crow? like of the tasty cheese?
aye, YELLOW, ye focking dumbo, the colour of ye wee's.

i donned my nightcap, took'th the hot broth, to retire to my bed,
and there, across the ghostly pillow, ronald the sausage lay...
DEAD.

'sweet sausage,' i speak'th
'yet you never ventured,
to the marble oven, that one built!'
there t'was twinkle in my eye, perhaps,
most possibly a tear of guilt.

oh sausage, i sigh
why not i..
oh sausage,
why not i...