The Sausage Balloon

I often wonder, when we fry
A Sausage, if its thoughts can fly

Across the billowy ocean wave
To where its namesake stern and brave
Floats like a Guardian Angel, high
Above our armies, in the sky,
Serene and stately as a cloud.
No wonder Sausages are proud!
No wonder Sausages when fried
Oft-times swell up and burst with pride!