What's the ideal food
If you have friends round for dinner
And you want their stay to be brief?
Corned beef

It's not made up from the rump of the cow
But the head
And the feet
And the teeth
And those bits that hang down underneath
Corned beef

It's imported from Argentina
Where somehow they manage to concertina
A whole cow into a tin like that

It's my belief
They don't use beef
But rat
Or cat
Or bat
Corned beef

Any animal in such a state
Must have had a life full of grief
Corned beef

It hasn't even got corn in
Every can should carry a government health warning
As you never know what you might catch
When you sit down and eat
Corned beef

And me?
I didn't want my plate of
Corned beef
So I gave it to my mate
Keith
Instead
And now he's dead

And do you know the last words that he said?
“Corned beef!”