We eat beef and lamb and chicken
All kinds of fish and game
Duck and goat and venison
And others you could name.
Out East - I read once on a blog -
They even like a spot of dog
But of edible creatures small or big
I say the mightiest is the pig

There are so many ways to dine
For which we owe the humble swine
Salame, ham, roast pork, chorizo
Hot dogs, ribs, and wieneschnitzel
Sausages and chipolata
Sugo all’amatriciana
And let us not be mistaken
The finest way to waken’s
To the scent of frying bacon

With no pork pie pray you tell me
Just where would Melton Mowbray be
Pigs make the English breakfast full
Pig’s’re what made John Bull John Bull
They even fought the Nazi plan
By nourishing us all with spam
Pigs gave the Indians Vindaloo
The Chinese sweet and sour too
There’s nothing that a pig can’t do.

How many people do you know
Will let their great religions go
Just for a plate of prosciutto?

A world hog roast could bridge the schism
And end fundamentalism
What’s the need for hostile force
After chops with apple sauce
Yet all the lowly pig does ask’s
A pool of mud in which to bask
A trough in which to put its snout
It eats whatever you hand out
What else can you say that about?


In an age when it was no longer acceptable to mock someone for the colour of their skin. To deride a middle aged white man of an opposing philosophical persuasion whose face reddened when impassioned. They called him gammon.
Gammon!
Yes, gammon.

Well shout it loud
I’m a gammon and proud
And I shall not be cowed
By the baying of Guardian readers
Shine
Now’s our time brethren swine
For we are the porcine
I’m a gammon and proud

I may be older than I’d like
And a little bit plumper than I’d like
Not to mention much balder than I’d like
But there’s not a lot I can do. V I
Drink more than I should
And more frequently than I really should
And for longer than can be any good
And I’ve got a red snout

So shout it loud
I’m a gammon and proud
We are boar we are sow
Let us forage our way to glory
Rise!
Rise above the pork pies
Come ye pigs mobilize
We are gammon and proud


We come now to the epilogue
So as he wallows in his bog
All hail the unassuming hog
Oink, oink

FIN