I wanted to eat apple pie
The lack of it caused me to cry
I searched an I searched
And my heart gave a lurch
I wished I could find some of mine

The Baker’s son soon stole a pie
Not for you but for I
He flew through the vale
Until the crust had turned stale
For naught did he worthlessly fly

I ran into old Mother Hubbard
I asked her to look in her cupboard
Unfortunately
There was none there for me
So I walked off to ask of my brother

My Brother did have a piece
He had given it to his young niece
For she had had nothing
But a small bit of pudding
And face had been all over grease

I finally tired of this thing
I went to go ask of he king
For he would know
Where I could go
Or he would ask of the queen

“My dear,” said the king with a sigh,
“I just ate our last apple pie.
But if you travel to the far city
And ask o their pity
I’m sure they’ll happily comply.”

I went and I travel quite far
I knocked on the far city’s door
They let me come in
I was greeted with grins
And I asked for my stomach’s desire

“My dear,” said the mayor of the town,
“I see we have some laying around.”
He had his son York
Fetch me a fork
And I ate pie with a crust of perfect brown