Tinned Ham Again

Oh Christ no, not tinned ham again Mum
I'm tired and I'm bored and I'm ever so hungry
And I'm trapped in this miserable hovel
On a cold and a miserable Edinburgh Sunday

My soul is tormented, my will-power is crushed
As the rain batters down the front door
I need something tasty to lighten my heart
Or I can't see the point any more

Could you not push the boat out just once Mum
To relieve my distress and malaise
Would the budget not stretch to some flavourful grub
Lest I enter my dysthemic phase

And this bloody excuse for a salad
A tomato with one lettuce leaf
I know things are tight but for pity's own sake
Just for once, could we not have some beef?

With some roasted potatoes and parsnips perhaps
Onion gravy inside Yorkshire pudding
I'm sickening for proper nutrition
And I'm so thin that my ribs are protruding

So take this poor offering away Mum
'cause I think I would much rather starve
Than eat tinned ham and salad again Mum
Just bring on the beef, and I'll carve