So it seems that everything’s dandy
When you light up your yard barbecue
But some are quite techy and grumble
With moans of the hullabaloo
They don’t like the mass inconvenience
Of the smoke that it makes or the smell
Nor the fact you’re playing loud music
And wish that you’d just go to hell!
But in essence they’d like a kind invite
A beer and a bit of your fun
So that when you are burning the charcoals
They too can eat meat overdone!