My Old Man's a Gannet

Now my old man had an appetite

He could really pack it in

'Cause no one bothered with telling him

That gluttony was a sin

He could polish off an 'ole roast pig

From the trotters to the snout

And that was just for starters

'Cause then you'd hear him shout:

'Gimme one, gimme two, gimme three dinners

Gimme three dinners or four

Gimme five, gimme six, gimme seven dinners

And I'll still have room for more!

Gimme eight, gimme nine, gimme ten

And if my belly starts to hurt

Then I'll say when and stop at ten

And I'll move on to dessert!'

Now my old man was a lonely soul

He weren't to everyone's taste

He found it hard to find a girl

With his 98-inch waist

But then one day he met his match

With Bertha from up west

She claimed she'd out-eat any man

So they put it to the test:

I said,

'Gimme one, gimme two, gimme three dinners

Gimme three dinners or four

Gimme five, gimme six, gimme seven dinners

And I'll still have room for more!

Gimme eight, gimme nine, gimme ten

And if I have to stop, I will

'Cause the one who eats the least

Can start with picking up the bill!'

Now my old man said, 'Son,

I can't keep gorging every day.

My feet won't stop complaining

And gawd knows what I weigh!'

This terrible sad affliction

It got him in the end:

He drew a breath and choked to death

On an 'alf-sucked fisherman's friend

Gimme one, gimme two, gimme three dinners

Gimme three dinners or four

Gimme five, gimme six, gimme seven dinners

And I'll still have room for more!

Gimme eight, gimme nine, gimme ten

He had the last laugh on us all

'Cause to get the coffin in the church

We had to take down 'alf the wall

Now if your old man's a gannet