Out of the can
Into the pan
Onto the hob
Down your gob.
I couldn't Adam and Eve it
I was doing bird
There was a bit of a barney
And I had had a word.
Geezer copped a boot to the boat race
And now he's brown bread
Or as the judge liked to put it -
I kicked him in the head.
I'm not a Francophile,
Nor am I a France hater.
I used to like the Irish,
Till I tried a potata.
I drink Pimm's at Wimbledon
Eat Strawberries & Cream
Sitting on Henman's Hill
Living the Dream
Dipping sausage in your egg
Ketchup running down your leg
Baked bean juice upon your face
You like the way my breakfast taste.
Grilled tomato, French Toast
I like breakfast time the most
Will you have a cup of tea? - I made a pot
Pass the juice - it's getting hot.