The Bread Song - Renaldo & The Loaf

The thought of fresh bread drives me crazy

Brown, crisp rolls, fresh and warm

I roam the streets for baker’s shops

Compelled to enter each I pass

I once rode in a baker’s van

Down the road when I was small

Could this have started my obsession

Or is there some more sinister cause?

I had a friend who was the same

Biting corners from his purchase

Murmuring some sweet endearment

To the yeasty object of his love

My passion’s getting out of hand

I’m rapidly losing control

Each room is stacked up to the ceiling

With it’s moulding, doughy crew

So if you chance to see me walking

Or stumbling with a heavy loud

Please relieve me of my burden

And check my pocket for hidden rolls