from the singing of David Jones

1 Potatoes are a windy meat
Tripe and onions are a treat
Pudding's good when stuffed with plums
But let us have some lumpy tums

Chorus:
From Barley we get home-brewed ale
from malt are whiskey comes
But from the oats in Staffordshire
Do come our lumpy tums

2 Would you your offspring render weak
Feeding pap that's made of wheat?
Suffer them not to suck their thumbs
Give mother love and lumpy tums
3 That breadknock man Jim Shaw who slew
Ten valiant french at Waterloo
His fateful one gave them their doom
For he was raised on lumpty tums

4 When I have reached my finite day
Grant me that for which I pray
I crave not wealth's uncounted sums
But peace, and health and lumpy tums

(david jones got the song from richard fewtrell[spell?)
@food
filename[ LUMPYTUM
DC
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