O Colonel! My Colonel!

[Bronson Magnifico 83]

O Colonel! My Colonel! our cooking time is done;

The chef has deep fried every rack, the spice/herb mix is won;

The breast is near, the biscuits here, the gravy; all is salted,

While aproned eyes the steady keel, the bucket grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the cold potato wedge,

Where on the floor my Colonel lies,

'Midst fallen crumbs of bread.