It’s summertime and hot out there,
The scent of roses everywhere,
But something horrid’s in the air
For which my nose and eyes don’t care…
My eyes began to stream and sting
I couldn’t really see a thing,
But I could smell the pungent stuff
That made my breathing feel so rough…
Followed by the meat cremation
Which attacks the British nation
Just as soon as sun arrives
To put ‘adventure’ in our lives.
I feel that it should be a sin
To set a match to paraffin
To bring the barbie up to heat
Just so that you can burn your meat.
The chemically induced flame
Makes every morsel taste the same,
And meanwhile summer’s fragrant night
Is subject to sensory blight.
I cannot see a bit of fun
In calcined burgers in a bun,
Or blackened steak, too hard to bite
Shared with the creatures of the night.
Don’t get me wrong, because it’s true
That I love a good barbecue,
I’d rather eat outside than in…
But not stuff doused in paraffin!