Pigs For Lunch


	I watched the Piggies,
	With their wiggly tails.
	I watched the Piggies,
	One With Hay Bales,
	Another With Sticks,
	Another With Bricks.
	I Watched The Piggies,
	With their wiggly tails.
	Houses were they building,
	With their wiggly tails.
	My stomach was rumbling,
	At the sight of their juicy sides.
	A hunger was brewing,
	Soon to their demise.
	Houses were they building,
	My hunger growing in size.
	Finished are they?
	Finally, Time to carve!
	Sleepy are they?
	Good, ‘Cuz I'm starved!
	And I like my meal quiet,
	Not noisy and screaming.
	Sleepy are they?
	Good, ‘Cuz I'm starved!
	To the first house I go,
	Knock on the little door.
	Pull out my baked dough,
	Waiting for this boar.
	But he will not open,
	He's blasted Hay door.
	So I Huffed and I puffed
	And I blew quite a score!
	One piggy sandwich,
	But still am I famished,
	So on to the next one,
	A little twig door.
	Be he would not open,
	This stubborn little boar.
	So I huffed and I puffed,
	And I blew quite some more!
	Two piggy sandwiches,
	Yet STILL I am famished.
	So I walk a little closer,
	To the sea shore.
	Here is the other piggy,
	With his little brick door.
	And I can not knock,
	So I call to this boar.
	"Hey Piggy, open up!
	Your brothers are sore!
	They're digesting in my belly!
	And I want some MORE!
	So open this blasted,
	Fangled Brick Door!
	So I can eat you, 
	To tally the score!"
	This frightened little piggy,
	Cried out and wailed.
	"You god awful meany,
	Go eat a hay bale."
	Now, huffing and puffing,
	Will surely not work.
	Not on a brick house,
	Made of rock hardened dirt.
	So I climb through and window
	And lick my hungry chops.
	A third piggy sandwich,
	I really must stop.

The Poetic Version With An Alternate Ending for the "Three Little Pigs"