Farmyard Friends
A pig and a duck in the farmyard,
With the farmer about to be wed,
So a dilemma was broached,
When the farmer approached,
With his gun fully laden with lead.
Now the duck, in his wisdom, did reason,
There’s nothing quite like a ham shank,
The swine would go fine,
With a glass of white wine,
Said the duck, pointing out the huge flank.
Well, the pig grunted up in annoyance,
As the farmer began rubbing his hands,
Am I right in thinking,
The white wine you’ll be drinking,
Would go better with duck â l’orange?
Now hang on a sec, said the duck, in a flap,
There’s very little meat on a wing,
But with this mighty beast,
There’d be plenty to feast,
And would still feed you well into spring.
You’re missing the point, the pig, he replied,
The bride’s wrath do you wish to incur?
Serving bacon and egg,
With a lump of fried bread,
As opposed to a Mallard chasseur.
Be quiet! Interrupted the farmer,
I’ve something to say if you’ve done,
You can both save your voices,
She’s a vegan, my Joyce is,
So I’d say you’ve been jumping the gun.
I only came out on the off-chance,
Of a matter I wish to propose,
Our feast you may savour,
In exchange for a favour,
That’s the ring through the end of your nose.
Then the farmer walked back to the farmhouse,
Chuckling away as he passed,
The pig and the duck,
Knee-deep in the muck,
Inseparable friends to the last.
With the farmer about to be wed,
So a dilemma was broached,
When the farmer approached,
With his gun fully laden with lead.
Now the duck, in his wisdom, did reason,
There’s nothing quite like a ham shank,
The swine would go fine,
With a glass of white wine,
Said the duck, pointing out the huge flank.
Well, the pig grunted up in annoyance,
As the farmer began rubbing his hands,
Am I right in thinking,
The white wine you’ll be drinking,
Would go better with duck â l’orange?
Now hang on a sec, said the duck, in a flap,
There’s very little meat on a wing,
But with this mighty beast,
There’d be plenty to feast,
And would still feed you well into spring.
You’re missing the point, the pig, he replied,
The bride’s wrath do you wish to incur?
Serving bacon and egg,
With a lump of fried bread,
As opposed to a Mallard chasseur.
Be quiet! Interrupted the farmer,
I’ve something to say if you’ve done,
You can both save your voices,
She’s a vegan, my Joyce is,
So I’d say you’ve been jumping the gun.
I only came out on the off-chance,
Of a matter I wish to propose,
Our feast you may savour,
In exchange for a favour,
That’s the ring through the end of your nose.
Then the farmer walked back to the farmhouse,
Chuckling away as he passed,
The pig and the duck,
Knee-deep in the muck,
Inseparable friends to the last.