Since our Angelina joined a Cooking Class
Our happy little home is filled with misery and gloom
and carking care now sits on every brow
we’ve every single one of us been blighted in our bloom
and all of us we feel we don’t know how
for we are growing so dyspeptic that we’re nearly catalytic
and we really need digestions made of brass
for we eat things to our cost
which would exterminate an ostrich
since our Angelina joined a cooking class
—
She manufactured dishes that would turn a chemist blue
if their mysteries he tried to analyse
our cook resigned a month ago and took her wages due
when she tasted one of Angelina´s pies
she makes things. “A la Francaise” which none of us can fancy.
And she says. “It is cos our ignorance is crass,”
our dog expired last Sunday, and our cat left home on Monday.
Since our Angelina joined a cooking class.
—
The pastry that she makes will last for centuries.
her doughnuts they are as hard as cannon shots
we´d suet pudding weeks ago, we’ve got it with us still
and her sponge cake often ties us up in knots
her stews they stupefied us and her puddings petrify us
till we dare not view our features in the glass
and the tender tear drops trickle when she poisons us with pickles
since our Angelina joined a cooking class
—-
Poor father’s hair was raven black, but now it’s nearly white
poor mother, she is pale and hollow eyed
full brother Bill got jaundice and he’s lost his appetite
and he prattles in his sleep of suicide
when he took a large decoction of dear Angie’s own concoction
and it was that that sent poor brother Bill to grass
so he’s seeking rest in quiet in a simple skilly diet
since our Angelina joined a cooking class
—
The house is full of medicine, the end is drawing nigh
our family doctors left us to our lot
she gave a tramp a sample of her cookery to try
he tried it and he died upon the spot
if some Tom, Dick or Harry would our Angelina marry
but nobody is brave enough. Alas
his loving wife to make her so we wait the undertaker
since our Angelina joining a cooking class