THE BALLAD OF EAMONN THE BLOATED

In a mean abode on Garvaghy Road
Lived a man so fat and bloated
He had a belly so soft like jelly
And it grew as he got promoted
So one day at dawn with his nightshirt on
His breakfast plate he looted

As quick as a flash he ate up his hash
Browns, and atein' was never so quick
But the drip drip drip that fell from his lip
Of the brown sauce would make ye sick
And the pool of grease that never did cease
Grew clotted and cold and thick


And yet he was glad he'd done what he had
When he'd eaten a few good doses
But a sudden awe of the sausages raw
Struck his heart like atherosclerosis
So to finish the food that tasted so good
He resolved that he'd fry and toast


He took the mate from off o' the plate
And twisted it into the pan
And he fried it himself by the pantry shelf
A breakfast fit for a man
In the face of food with a mouthful good
He solmenly guzzled it down


But the strangest turn to the whole concern
Is to become our motto
His fame got bigger with his popular figure
And the increasing size of his torso
For atein' well won't end in hell
It'll get ye a job on the Lotto