Cookin' Up The Amazon
I’m sure I saw a cardamom,
With parasitic eyes,
It swam along the Amazon,
Beneath the curried skies.
It hid amongst asparagus,
Where frenzied fennel fight,
And was eaten by an aubergine,
With skin as black as night.
Sweet mangos chirped to see such deed,
And capsicum turned red,
We’ll have to kill that aubergine,
The leering lentil said.
So off set quick the tamarind,
And found along its way,
Suckling with its puckered lips,
A fromage with its frais.
Have you seen the aubergine,
Trying desperately to hide?
You must mean the egg plant,
The fromage, she replied.
It’s true, I saw him pass this way,
About an hour ago,
He rode a blancmange bicycle,
And wobbled to and fro’.
But it’s no use chasing aubergines,
Life’s too short, my friend,
Try swimming in the jelly pond,
If you want a sticky end.
Take my word, he’s long gone now,
I know it’s hard to chew,
But when he meets those foul medames,
He’ll end up in a stew.
So off set back the tamarind,
To tell his friends the news,
And was bitten by a cochineal,
With icing sugar shoes.
And as he lay there dying,
By his beloved Amazon,
He was stood on by a lychees,
Tripping gormlessly along.
The moral of this story is,
Because some veg are fickle,
If you wander down the Amazon,
You’ll end up in a pickle.
With parasitic eyes,
It swam along the Amazon,
Beneath the curried skies.
It hid amongst asparagus,
Where frenzied fennel fight,
And was eaten by an aubergine,
With skin as black as night.
Sweet mangos chirped to see such deed,
And capsicum turned red,
We’ll have to kill that aubergine,
The leering lentil said.
So off set quick the tamarind,
And found along its way,
Suckling with its puckered lips,
A fromage with its frais.
Have you seen the aubergine,
Trying desperately to hide?
You must mean the egg plant,
The fromage, she replied.
It’s true, I saw him pass this way,
About an hour ago,
He rode a blancmange bicycle,
And wobbled to and fro’.
But it’s no use chasing aubergines,
Life’s too short, my friend,
Try swimming in the jelly pond,
If you want a sticky end.
Take my word, he’s long gone now,
I know it’s hard to chew,
But when he meets those foul medames,
He’ll end up in a stew.
So off set back the tamarind,
To tell his friends the news,
And was bitten by a cochineal,
With icing sugar shoes.
And as he lay there dying,
By his beloved Amazon,
He was stood on by a lychees,
Tripping gormlessly along.
The moral of this story is,
Because some veg are fickle,
If you wander down the Amazon,
You’ll end up in a pickle.