In A Pig's Eye

IN A PIG'S EYE

A pig with his master and
friend, who feeds him every day

A night out together they
strolled the pleasent way

Arriving at the big house,
they were friendly greeted

In a large hall, where later
that night fifty guests would be seated.

They were guests to a party,
dine on wine and swill

His trotters like shiny shoes,
they were both dressed to kill

For this special date had long
be planed

But for him would be a one
nights stand

Table after table the pig
spied with delight

He drooled at the mouth and
oinked at the sight

For each now was being laid
with such quality swill

And a fire was raging over an
anormous grill-

He imagined the night when he
would take his seat

Consume, consume he would eat
and eat

But a look down the menu there
was something amiss!

Little did he knows they had
invited the main dish!

And he had arrived on time and
not too late

Then off to meet the butcher
and his fate.

A funerial for a pig! Such a
thing!

Born to squeal but not to
sing.

He was the thing, the centre
of attention

Popular, without a bone of
contention

When he took his place, a
perfect fit

Nearest to the fire reclined
on a spit

Chris Whitley 2017 Berlin