I'd like to be a baker, and come when morning breaks, Calling out, "Beeay-ko!" (that's the sound he makes) - Riding in a rattle-cart that jogs and jolts and shakes, Selling all the sweetest things a baker ever bakes; Currant-buns and brandy-snaps, pastry all in flakes; But I wouldn't be a baker if ... I couldn't eat the cakes. Would you?
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2002|