SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

This CHALLENGE! was posted by popular demand (it would seem) and/or by thread creep from another thread. (For info, check out this thread).  The CHALLENGE! was to write a song about food -- your favorite food, your least favorite food, the things in your refrigerator, etc. Any food-based topic was fine.

Ghost Custard by Micca
(Tune:  Ghost Riders in the Sky)

Micca's Comments:  I wrote this song last year and was thinking about sending it to the songbook but here is a golden opportunity too good to miss.  NB Splot is a suburb of Cardiff in Wales.  Trifle is a cold dessert made from jello and sponge and topped with cream or in this case custard.

Its Saturday at tea time in a little house in Splot
Young Bert is in the bathroom preparing to go out
He's got a heavy date on tonight to go see 
A film with Mavis Baxter who lives next-door but three. 
Yipppy yie ay yippiy yie oh seduction in South Wales

He is seventeen, and randy and knows a thing or two
He knows that girls like clean clothes and smell and freshness too
So he has showered and shaved and aftershave splashed on
For randy Mavis Baxter who he'll seduce ere long. 
Yipppy yie ay yippiy yie oh he's hoping to get laid 

Now Bert he hasn't dressed yet he's standing in the nude
He's standing there admiring his parts that are so rude
He doesn't seem know or care, that there's a little flare
Of aftershave going southwards towards his pubic hair
Yipppy yie ay yippiy yie oh careless young Bert beware

At first a warm sensation spreads around his crutch
It's just a pleasant warming that doesn't count for much
It rises to horrendous pain like his part were all on fire
A burning sharp sensation like being brushed with strands of wire
Yipppy yie ay yippiy yie oh bert with his pubes on fire

He knows the house is empty so naked, near insane
He heads for kitchen fridge to try to ease the pain
And When he opens up the door then all he can see
Is the trifle made by mother for family Sunday tea
Yipppy yie ay yippiy yie oh cold trifle in South Wales

With the terrible sensation he's nearly lost his mind
And that there Sunday trifle is all that he can find
Its any port in a storm he thinks I don't want my gear busted
So the bowls out on the table and in he's plunged it in the custard
Yipppy yie ay yippiy yie o-oh relief is hard to find

As the pain slowly begins to fade he glances up to see
That in has walked his mother who is looking quizic'ly
She said "I've led a sheltered life and don't know much of men
But I never knew that, that was how you filled them up again"
Yipppy yie ay yippiy yie oh confusion in South Wales

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