Something in the Air, Changes.
Fish and Chips
Fish and chips I remember you, sprinkled with vinegar, salt too,
served from the newspaper, news print on hands, grease on my mouth, steam from the mounds.
Tasting you now, it ain't the same, you come in fancy cardboard boxes, bearing your name.
Fish and chips you read out loud, you once pleased the masses out in the crowd.
The aroma of vinegar passes your nose, don't inhale quickly, bad mistake
or your portion of fish and chips could escape,
Oh that familar feeling, batter done to perfection no more slides down
Instead I feel incredibly sick, so over full my stomach is ill
the contents it holds, are rumbling below,
Weighing like a tonne of bricks, I need to be sick.
Slimming World has done this for me, not just producing curves you see,
but more in the lines of teaching me to dine
on finer things than fish and chips, and you know what?
I don't miss you at all. Give me a yoghurt instead!
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