I like to keep me baked beans, Hidden safely from prying eyes. From opportunistic theiverings, Between me cottons and me thighs.
Consider it a preventative measure, Under lock and key. 'Cause no one's having me baked beans, Me beans are just for me.
I admit, there's a little chaffing, And some go mushing up me back, When in a chair, I plonk too 'ard. But, I've always got a snack.
I can fit around a week's worth, (About a tin and a half.) But not a bean over that, Or it'll all slip down me calf.
Sometimes I go commando, So I've got space for a few scotch eggs. Mam says I must be crazy, When she spots me lumpy legs.
But really, I'm just efficient, On me guard and well aware. Me beans are safe, And kept in place, All snug in me underwear.