The butlers say the cooks are
famous for their chicken pie, that
eating it’s to be complicit with the best
humanity could offer to a person
and, Ah! they all say to their lords
We’ve found our cooks! who though’d lack
beyond what’s blurred would bake a pie beyond
excellent, and lords ask their butlers, What kind of pie?
We love pie! and cooks say to butlers and lords
A nice meat pie! and made oval
the butlers repeat to their lords
My lord, it’s a meat pie
A meat pie?
Yes, my lord, it’s a nice meat pie for you, my lord
A nice meat pie and for me?
Yes, my lord, a nice meat pie and for you
A meat pie, but what kind of meat?
It’s nice, my lord
Yes, it’s nice, but what else?
It’s chicken, my lord
Oh, it’s chicken?
Yes, chicken, my lord, the meat’s chicken
The meat’s chicken.
Yes, my lord, the meat’s chicken
And it’s chicken meat pie.
Yes, my lord
And for me.
Yes, it is
So it’s chicken meat pie and for me.
Yes, my lord
And it’s oval?
Yes, it is, my lord