A pinch of this, a dab of that
Into the mixing bowl,
Then stir until you cain’t no more,
With all your heart and soul.

This recipe to good success
To many lives has bring’d
A sense of hope with smells o’ joy—
When baking tunes is sing’d.

The scent o’ sweet fresh bread, homemade
A loner’s heart can cheer
It saves him from the pit of gloom
And from the shame of beer.

So here’s to yous a message plain
To all who burn and bake
Keep up your work and think to put
Some love in what you make.

"Ned, bring me bread!"
is what Mother said
when she woke up on a warm western morn.
But Ned refused, for he felt so abused,
and besides, he would rather have corn.

But the wind did blow,
for that's how winds go,
and he had to go down to the store.
While dear Mother's voice gave him no more choice,
So he hurried off to the shop on Seashore.

Seashore was a road
where many a toad
had met his unfortunate end.
But despite this gloomy thought, Ned went to where they bought
everything they needed, my friend.