In Nottingham nunnery there were three nuns
Who were fond of eating fried eggs atop English buns
Nobody could stop them from this pernicious habit
Try as they might they couldn't get at it.
Mother Superior worried about the cost of the nuns' food
She was bedraggled and always in a bad mood
She called her colleagues in other places
To find out what to do in such cases.
All she got were evasive and vague replies
With no promise of further supplies
The nunnery's finances went from bad to worse
The mood everywhere was unhappy and terse.
The other nuns wanted to eat like their sisters
The same food that had an aspect so sinister
They too wanted the honor of being able to vie
For eating those delicious buns with egg fry.
Mother Superior went sleepless, thought long and hard
And finally played her last desperate card
She gaily told all the young girls not to fret
Should they find themselves smoking a cigarette.
The acolytes were in raptures and wept with joy
To see their Mother acting so devilish and coy
They also made plans to leave the nunnery
To visit soldiers and officers in the nearby gunnery.
Soon the nunnery got a reputation
Where young girls were sent on deputation
To become a young housewife and society girl
With ample freedom to smoke and cigarettes twirl.
Mother Superior too changed her dress code
She no longer carried any burdens or moral load
She put on smart two-piece designer suits
Which from the town attracted all the old coots.
This then is the moral of the story
Whether you are a Whig, Liberal or Tory
In matters of food don't tell women what to do
Or else they will make you your fingers chew.
Food is a woman's birthright
Over which you should never fight
If you don't heed this sage advice
Your women will descend into greed and vice!