(in memory of Annie, Angus and Jamie, and barked by the Blacktail Gang to the tune of Hark The Herald Angels...ish)
In six-acres swedes we found,
Nestled snuggly in the ground.
What a lovely tasty snack,
For Neddy, Harry, Scout and Shack.
Humans eat it cooked and mashed,
We dogs like our swedes unbashed...
...crisp and crunchy, no nutmeg
For swedie we'll sit and beg.
Raw swede each on Christmas Day,
Nothing more we need to say.
(if anyone knows the other lost verses, including the one about sprouts, please feel free to add to the comment)
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