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Correct Food, Glorious Food Lyrics
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Artists: H
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Harry Secombe
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Correct Food, Glorious Food
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Is it worth the waiting for? If we live 'til eighty four All we ever get is gruel! Ev'ry day we say our prayer Will they change the bill of fare? Still we get the same old gruel! There's not a crust, not a crumb can we find Can we beg, can we borrow, or cadge But there's nothing to stop us from getting a thrill When we all close our eyes and imagine Food, glorious food! Hot sausage and mustard! While we're in the mood Cold jelly and custard! Peas, pudding and saveloys! What next is the question? Rich gentlemen have it, boys In-di-gestion! Food! We're anxious to try it Three banquets a day Our favourite diet! Just picture a great big steak Fried, roasted or stewed Oh, food Wonderful food Marvellous food Glorious food Food, glorious food! Don't care what it looks like Burned! Underdone! Crude! Don't care what the cook's like Just thinking of growing fat Our senses go reeling One moment of knowing that Full-up feeling! Food, glorious food! What wouldn't we give for That extra bit more That's all that we live for Why should we be fated to Do nothing but brood On food Magical food Wonderful food Marvellous food So really good Magical food Glorious food! Oh, what you're about to receive May the Lord make you truly thankful Amen! Please sir, I want some more What? Please sir, I want some more More? Catch him, snatch him! Hold him, scold him! Pounce him, trounce him! Pick him up and bounce him! Wait! Before we take the lad to task May I be so curious As to ask his name Oliver! Oliver, Oliver Never before has a boy wanted more Oliver, Oliver Won't ask for more wwhen he knows what's in store There's a dark, thin, winding Stairway without any bannister Which we'll throw him down And feed him with cockroaches served in a canister Oliver, Oliver What will he do when he's turned black and blue He will rue the day Somebody named him Oliver Oliver, Oliver Never before has a boy wanted more Oliver, Oliver Won't ask for more when he knows what's in store There's a long, thin, winding Stairway without any bannister Which we'll throw him down And feed him cockroaches served in a canister Oliver, Oliver What, heavens pray will the governors say? They will lay the blame On the one who named him Oliver
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