Every year about this time
We head to Dorset
For tunes and wine
And deep fried squid
From thyme and tide
Next to roast chicken
Side by side

At  le grand bouffe
Heartburn won't subside
With rising bile you are supplied
No pieminster on this site
The pie and chips is sold by Sykes
Smoking buns the burger gaffe
Will do you breakfast if you ask
And at Tibetan kitchen
The hungry crowd grows thick
Ask him to save me
A Yeti's ****.