In the end does it really matter
if the biscuits are broken in pieces?
Too many of them will still make you fatter
on your platter with chorizo and cheeses.
This crumb on my plate, to me is a misfit,
it takes away the pleasure of busting my biscuit.
A broken biscuit is a reject left on the shelf,
with no other company apart from itself.
But Paul likes the irregular jigsaw fit
and Lee the malty-cultural mosiac blend.
You never quite know what you are going to get
or how the crumbly experience will end.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, who really cares if the biscuit smashes.
Every biscuit is destined to break up and shatter
In the end does it really matter?