School dinner

School dinner horrible

They are very misrble

Always the same

They are very messed up

How do the messed up though

Never clean

People are always mean

remember in the fifties, I stayed for my school dinners

At six sided tables, with six chairs to match

I remember on walls, having all the art class winners

Whilst the dinner ladies served our food by batch

I remember lots of water, in a very large glass jug

With a glass for every diner in its place

I remember as I poured, it would give out a sudden glug

Causing droplets that would often hit your face

I remember smelly cabbage, with lots of lumpy mash

A tray sliced up with equal bits of pie

I remember thick brown gravy, it landed with a splash

That could blind you if it got you in the eye

I remember all the puddings, with custard steaming hot

You could only have if finishing your greens

I remember all the groaning as we finished off the lot

And the sickly taste from piles of butter beans

I remember taking turns, to have the custards skin

Had to scrape it off before the stuff would pour

I remember in the fifties, that none of us were thin

As the puddings kept us going back for more