An homely girl named Anne
just couldn’t get a man.
Her mother told her,
‘Darlin’, don’t you cry.
You’ll knock ‘em down like skittles
with some farinaceous victuals:
You’ll always get a guy with a pie.
‘Lots of butter, sugar, flour,
keeps ‘em in your power.
when physical attractions run awry
Start rollin’ out the dough
and he’ll never let you go:
Yes, you’ll always get a guy with a pie.
‘When rules of engagement don’t apply
and your best meals fail to catch his eye
bring on the custard
and he’ll be keen as mustard:
Yes, you’ll always get a guy with a pie
When a man finds a mate
he can gain a little weight
Yes, I’ve been there and I can testify.
I used to be a rake
then she began to bake:
You’ll always get a guy with a pie.
Guys ain’t complex,
they soon get sick of sex.
Yet still they all got needs to gratify.
Savoury or sweet
a bloke’s gotta eat:
and you’ll always get a guy with a pie.
Even when they’re stale
they taste OK with ale
at the point when hunger pangs intensify
Cold weather grub
You can get ‘em in the pub:
You’ll always get a guy with a pie.
What else you gonna do
with that left-over stew
and those cuts of meat you can’t identify?
Ingredients of this sort
Just taste better under short-crust:
You’ll always get a guy with a
— I spy with my little eye
Somethin’ beginnin’ with —
Oh Aye!
You’ll always get a guy with a pie!
Observed from a citation by the punk bard of Salford