Food, Glorious Food

Is it worth the waiting for?
If we live 'til eighty four
All we ever get is gruel!
Ev'ry day we say our prayer
Will they change the bill of fare?
Still we get the same old gruel!
There's not a crust, not a crumb can we find
Can we beg, can we borrow, or cadge
But there's nothing to stop us from getting a thrill
When we all close our eyes and imagine

Food, glorious food!
Hot sausage and mustard!
While we're in the mood
Cold jelly and custard!
Peas, pudding and saveloys!
What next is the question?
Rich gentlemen have it, boys
In-di-gestion!

Food!
We're anxious to try it
Three banquets a day
Our favourite diet!

Just picture a great big steak
Fried, roasted or stewed
Oh, food
Wonderful food
Marvellous food
Glorious food

Food, glorious food!
Don't care what it looks like
Burned! Underdone! Crude!
Don't care what the cook's like
Just thinking of growing fat
Our senses go reeling
One moment of knowing that
Full-up feeling!

Food, glorious food!
What wouldn't we give for
That extra bit more
That's all that we live for
Why should we be fated to
Do nothing but brood
On food
Magical food
Wonderful food
Marvellous food
So really good
Magical food

Glorious food!

Oh, what you're about to receive
May the Lord make you truly thankful
Amen!

Please sir, I want some more
What?
Please sir, I want some more
More?

Catch him, snatch him!
Hold him, scold him!
Pounce him, trounce him!
Pick him up and bounce him!
Wait!

Before we take the lad to task
May I be so curious
As to ask his name

Oliver!

Oliver, Oliver
Never before has a boy wanted more
Oliver, Oliver
Won't ask for more wwhen he knows what's in store
There's a dark, thin, winding
Stairway without any bannister
Which we'll throw him down
And feed him with cockroaches served in a canister

Oliver, Oliver
What will he do when he's turned black and blue
He will rue the day
Somebody named him Oliver

Oliver, Oliver
Never before has a boy wanted more
Oliver, Oliver
Won't ask for more when he knows what's in store
There's a long, thin, winding
Stairway without any bannister
Which we'll throw him down
And feed him cockroaches served in a canister

Oliver, Oliver
What, heavens pray will the governors say?

They will lay the blame
On the one who named him

Oliver