Custard

Dad was digging in the garden When he struck a custard wellMum was none too happyBy her phizog you could tell We watched the plume of custardAs it rose  into the skyDad said “It’s bloomin’ lovelyWe can have that with some pie Mum was still unhappy“This has ruined my best dressYou can both get out there laterAnd clear up this ruddy mess” First thing in the morningI went out, to see the holeScraped away the surfaceAnd I filled a little bowl Sitting on my haunchesIn my jim jams and a vestI took a cautious spoonfulAnd declared it was the best Then later on, the press appearedAnd in the garden musteredAs Dad explained how he had foundA well of perfect custard A well known geolologistWas hired to surveyHe said our well, might just achieveTen thousand puds a day So, Dad went out and bought himselfA brand new custard pumpAnd put it in the shed that heWas just about to dump With lots and lots of effortAnd a little bit of planningWe built ourselves a factoryAnd we started custard canning Now mum is very happy, ‘causeWe’ve bought a house that’s biggerDon’t know what she’ll say thoughWhen she sees Dad’s bought a digger