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An Ode to the Cajun Scorcher
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By Ivor Scorcher in concert with Alun Tudor Jones.
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I went across to England,
The Roman Baths to see,
And then next door the Pump Rooms,
To have a bun and tea.
I climbed up to the Crescent,
By now getting sore feet,
Admired John Wood's Circus,
Turned left from Milsom Street.
Outside three gabled houses,
I briefly made a stop,
Across from the Old Green Tree,
I saw the Sausage Shop!
They sat there in their glory,
In steel like pans to see,
Sally Lunn can keep her bun,
Its Sausages for me.
I'll buy coils of Cumberland,
To eat for my dinner,
And even their black pudding,
Is a medal winner.
All their skins are natural,
The juices well sealed in,
Be careful of YOUR ceiling,
Don't prick them with a pin.
I've tried the Beef and Guinness,
I've tried the Thai with spice,
I've tried the Pork and Chestnut,
And they are all so nice.
McBride Scotch makes you Warmer,
Venison and Cranberry,
But if you want a firm one,
Then it's Cajun believe me!
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