Both: What a pair of happy little sausages!
Theirs was a very pleasant fate.
So they snuggled up together
In the chilly winter weather,
Both on the same cold plate
Well it wasn’t such a very cold plate!

Mitzi: One sad day those sausages quarrelled,
Ended was all their joy.
The reason was that she said she caught him winking
At a saucy little saveloy.
Max: ‘Pooh, my dear’, said the gentleman sausage,
‘You may think I’m a flirt? Well I am!
But I’ve seen you sitting on the same bit of parsley
As that wicked old knuckle of ham!

Both: What a pair of silly little sausages!
Theirs was a bitter, bitter pill;
For they very quickly parted
And it left her broken hearted,
While he joined a bad mixed grill,
Yes, it really was a very mixed grill!

Mitzi: Long years after on a luncheon counter
Those little sausages met.
Max: She was engaged to the wing of a chicken,
But he hadn’t got off yet.
Mitzi: Soon they were reconciled, and then, of course,
She consented to name the day,
Max: So the barmaid dressed her in a tissue paper frill.
And the waiter gave her away.

Both: What a pair of jolly little sausages!
Nothing their happiness can dash.
And on any day you’ll meet ’em,
For there’s no one wants to eat ’em,
He calls her his own sweet mash,
So you see that they are sausage and mash!

Lionel Monckton (1861-1924)