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U3A Writing: Bully Beef

Vera Sanderson mourns the passing of the roast beef of old England.

The roast beef of old England is going down the slot.
Nick Brown says it's safe to eat,
The Froggies say it's not.
The EC have cleared it for anybody's stew.
The French say, "Non," and break the law,
So who is ruling who?
We no longer have a gunboat to send storming up the Seine.
We cannot ban their imports. It's ludicrous, insane.
They feed their herds on mash and 'merde',
And if we make a fuss,
They slaughter it upon their farms
And send the meat to us.
The Frenchmen burnt our cattle.
The Spaniards stole our fish.
Our farms and boats are idle.
There's nothing in our dish.
The roast beef of old England
Was once our pride and joy,
But now our glorious Angus herds
They're hell bent to destroy.
The pride of Britain's cattle,
The sweat of farmer's brow,
The toil and tears of countless years
What happens to them now?
We fed and led the nation
In the years before the War
On fillet, rump and silverside
And stew meat for the poor.
And it was pure and succulent,
And beef tea made us strong.
So what has changed across the years,
And where did we go wrong?

The stupid, greedy bureaucrats
Resplendent in their bowler hats,
Who never cared to soil their hands
In slurry pits or cropping land,
Agreed that they would feed our beasts
On ground-up cows and 'scrapie' sheep,
Regardless of the consequence or cause,
No matter that these herds are herbivores.

Thus we became a third world nation
Who specialised in cannibalisation.
Once proud and noble Britain, bow your knee
And grovel cap in hand to the EC.


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