Say back in seventy-three?
"There's Lancashire hot-pot for lunch, lads, Tripe and trotters for tea!"
Why didn't talions eat Daniel?
They had been promised, you see—Lancashire hot-pot for lunch, lads, Tripe and trotters for tea!
The cannibal will stew his pal And make a hearty meal; The Eskimo, as you may know, Prefers a slice of seal.
But what does Nat Gubbins's stomach Ask him to send down with glee? Lancashire hot-pot for lunch, lads.
Tripe and trotters for tea!
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.