Corsets and Custard
 
When she was young she never could
Resist a sponge or treacle pud
And ate all food upon her plate
Which caused her then to put on weight,
So now she’s stuck with being fat
And doesn’t want to look like that.
Her diets never last too long,
There’s always something that goes wrong,
And so she’s found another way
To spend her dinner-lady pay
And into town she often goes
To find the cure for all her woes.
 
The forty-two should do the trick
And double D will make them stick
At just the angle much preferred
But shhh, remember Mum’s the word,
This ‘diet’ really works out cheap
To make her figure trim and neat,
The NHS should not despair
But offer up this simple prayer
‘Thank you, Lord, for strong elastic,
Stretchy pants and bits of plastic,
You must have known that Lycra tubes
Uplift our souls, not just our boobs!’


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