The French eat anything that moves it’s said
When on a pleasant night out on the town
Yet it’s the sordid snail that I most dread
Like chewing gum soiling the sodding bread
And a glass of rouge to gulp the damn thing down

Frogs legs leap up to number two methinks
In three litres of oil the victims drown
Now there they are a-sitting midst the drinks
All spindly limbs like some weird kind of jinx
And a glass of rouge to gulp the damn things down

The awkward oyster ends this list of crime
With a consistency to make you frown
Let me offer you one mouthful of slime
An experience that’s far from sublime
And a glass of rouge to gulp the damn thing down