Why are we so good to eat, why? oink oink oink oink
You can brine us then smoke us for bacon, that’s the Gloucester Old Spot’s lot
Cure our limbs and you’ve got ham oink oink oink oink
Looking for fat, how about that, middle white, lard on legs
Get on up like a lardon machine oink oink oink oink
This is what you do to me charcuterie
Put your horse’s bone in my thigh oink oink
The onomatopoeic lop, flavour is loppishish, needs an Alice band for those ears
The giant orange sofa Tamworth, ladies and gents oink oink oink oink
Trotters bring unctuous sticky, tails that go crispy
The little things like chitterlings, poo pipe, woohoo!
Roast chop sandwich, raised pork pie
Ears cheeks and nose I tell no lie, pigs head is the tops woohoo woohoo!
The table is laid, your number is up, it’s dinner time pig oink oink squeal squeal! Sizzle, woohoo woohoo!
And “Blues For Allah”? An old Dead album. I hadn’t realised how long ago that had been released. Time flies when you’re high…