24 June 2012
Sunday morning,
breakfast's calling,
Sausages eggs and toast,
I don't like to boast
But my breakfasts really are the best.
Every Sunday they're put to the test.
Get the egg cooked just right,
He's dreaming of it all Saturday night.
The white white as can be,
The yolk a little runny.
The best sausages around,
Lincolnshire or a cheeky Cumberland.
Bacon sizzling till it's just there,
Meaty but a but of crunch here,
On Sunday morning I do declare,
It should be a fry up on your plate there!
Opuss № I