Puppies

I have puppies everywhere, I have puppies galore,

I’m just about fed up with them, I gonna pitch ‘em out the door.

Some say they like them, they say they’re cute and nice,

But I just sit here scrachin’, I think they got the lice.

They say you cannot eat them, they say they’re not too sweet,

But I bet if you deep fried ‘em, they’d really be a treat.

Perhaps you could run ‘em thru and toss ‘em on the grill,

With a little sauce and veges, they’d be shis-ca-bob to trill.

Perhaps we could boil ‘em up, in a white sauce. Oh, that’s fine.

Then we could serve them up with a twenty year old wine.

Or toss them in the oven, of course they’d be under glass,

Then serve them to the King and Queen, a meal, of course, with class.

Perhaps we could bar-b-que ‘em outside for all to see,

And we’d invite the nieghbors, and tell them it’s chick-a-dee.

Or sell them to MacDonald’s, to make bugers for the poor,

For I have puppies everywhere, I have puppies galore.

©

George Henry Nichols