I musta often lusted for the custard of me Ma
She trusted us to leave it in its washed out custard jar
One day the jar got busted and the custard home became
A rinsed out English mustard jar appearing just the same
The now adjusted custard jar was soon to realise fame
She stood it by the mustard but the custard had no name
At teatime Dad had argued with me Mam and gave her grief
He really threw a fit about his custard and roast beef
Meanwhile inside the nursery as the kiddies tried their sweet
Their Apple pie and mustard didn't really seem a treat
Mammy called the doctor who on his arrival said
The mustard musta killed em but in any case they're dead
The moral of this story for the infant child or waif
Have Mustard-Custard guidelines which shall keep the children safe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mustard-Custard flustered? Here's a quick explainer: To some it is quite jarring to be in the wrong container. -chuck