Viva Lasagne

 


Viva Lasagne

 

Visions of girls I never kissed

Feet like Tyson Fury’s fists

I paid a thousand quid for this

Viva Lasagne, baby

 

The dogs at Bleagate roar their bark

I’d shit myself, but can’t be arsed

Three k more stumbling in the dark…

Viva lasagne, baby

 

All I can think about, for now

Is Alston’s legendary chow

My pace has quickened, Lord knows how?

Viva lasagne, baby

 

Pfft to High Cup, Cauldron Snout

THIS is what it’s all about

You’re gonna need a bigger mouth

Viva lasagne, baby

 

I can’t remember how it tastes

Metabolism set to ‘incinerate’

Be careful not to eat the plate

Viva lasagne, baby

 

From walking sleep, I’m now restored

Somewhere ‘twixt portions three and four

It’s like I never ate before

Viva Lasagne, baby

 

It’s time to leave, I’m gently told

I’m sad: a sated, grumpy soul

But Hark! The Angel’s up the road!

Viva Lasagne, baby


_____


With apologies to John Cooper Clarke for having his timbre in my head when I wrote this. BTW, the 'Angel' in the final verse refers to the ever tremendous Natasha, the Angel of Slaggyford who feeds, waters and cheerleads the Spiners as they pass her cottage. She's a club mate and friend of mine (and just banged out 3:!2 at Chicago, so a bloody good runner too)

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