The God Of Cheese

[This poem MUST be spoken in a Scottish accent. It's the law]

Hear ye!
Hear ye!
Hear ye!
For I am the God of Cheese

The God who speaks
Through the milk that reeks
The curdling king
Of dairy thing

Let all kowtow
To the black-and-white cow
For mature or mild
They are all my child

In the dead of night
All oot of sight
To yon house I'll burgle
Your milk to curdle

To be curds and whey
By the break of day
Such things do please
The God of cheese