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!’ Back to village