The Sausage Balloon

I often wonder, when we fry A Sausage, if its thoughts can fly

Across the billowy ocean wave To where its namesake stern and brave Floats like a Guardian Angel, high Above our armies, in the sky, Serene and stately as a cloud. No wonder Sausages are proud! No wonder Sausages when fried Oft-times swell up and burst with pride!