Pigs
Pigs are nice,
Pigs are sweet.
They like to sleep,
They like to eat.
They roam around the yard all day,
And seldom ever want to play.
They snort and grunt,
And squeal and squeak,
And get chopped up to make your meat.
Pigs can be wild,
They can be tame.
‘Dirty animals!’ some people claim.
But if you look inside their sties,
You might find to your surprise,
(That if the farmer sends fresh hay,
And swills their sties, every day,)
They’re very clean,
As you’ll have seen.
But the cleanest pig,
You’ll ever find,
Has been cooked up,
As bacon rind.
Pigs are nice,
Pigs are sweet.
But most of all,
They’re nice to eat.
