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Ode to the Brussels SproutSitting there upon your plate Doesn’t it stand out The vegetable you love to hate That dreadful brussel sprout Sometimes hidden there by mum Lurking in the stuffing She thinks I cannot see it Doesn’t she know nuffing There’s no escape, I have to eat it Or it’s early in my bed So in my mouth and down my throat I wish that I was dead I try to do what I am told But eating it’s an art But then I get a smacking Cos the damn things make me fart Still now I’m all grown up My children have no doubt That I will badger them to eat The hated brussel sprout Now they have left the family home The wife is in our bed But as I ate a brussel sprout I’m sleeping in the shed
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