There once was a little swine
he was partial to blueberry wine
and he had a fat mother
who had smothered his father
someone said you are out of line.
And the mother was really huge
and she dreamed of an oily deluge
where she would lose it all
and become a sweet doll
but the God of all fat was a scrooge.
So she went on a rampage to stab
all those thin ones who did not have flab
but she was so inept
that she finally wept
and she hoped for the gift of the gab.
But the weather had turned rather sour
it was raining from shower to shower
so she called to the crowd
that today is allowed
real fighting in mud, woman power.
But the people who’d smelled her objected
she was fat, had completely neglected
her old body at that
and she was rather fat
so she found that they all had defected.
When the stars came out shining in gold
and this fatso had done what she’s told
she just jumped from the castle
to avoid further hassle
she had always seen others as old.
What this proves is the subject of hate
is so futile to use on a mate
if you hate you are dumb
they should flog your old bum
but I think that we may be too late.