Mary Made Her Lamb Fat

Cheeky chub, must be love, battering eyelids.

Who could decline, wee white puff curly cute fluff.

More to snuggle nuzzle but less skip in it´s step.

A glutton for pleasure, soft spot for the cream pie.

Appetite for self destruction, want and get given.

All the kids would come, and old people make conversation.

Those conditioned curls bouncing as you trot for a wee bit.

Too spoilt, to lazy to stroll, Mary put you in a pram and pushed.

Wearing a little bow, doing a little bow, but now are very big.

But still who could decline you a treat each time you bleat.

Until it broke his heart, his and hers, chugged ´till valve plug.