(On seeing how something nice can be over exploited for tourists)
Oh! you impudent lard laden beastie,
Ye stodgy all- in- one feastie,
Thou brazen parcel devoid of all meatie,
All tattie and swede.
How dare ye represent pies all o'er the place
And inspire such greed.
Ye giant, crusty lunch and dinner,
Dessert and main course for saint and sunner
From Bodmin to Lands End you are the winner
All in yer face!
How many devoured in St Ives in one day?
Nae wonder there's no space.
Ha! thou who wouldst exploit this creation
Think of those from the rest of the nation,
Who used to buy it at the station,
Now can't face one.
We'll gae somewhere else and seek our dinner
Now the tourists are gone.
With apologies to Robert Burns
