Saturday, September 19, 2015

Holy Bake'ry

I tried 
I really did
but the cards that was dealt me
never got turnt over
I sat and I thought
and thought and thought and thought

When the sun came up 
I stood up and looked out the door
down the street
tord the bake'ry
my poppy owned and got up and went to 
ever day
yur after yur after yur

One day he gots poco loco
and started shootin' the place up
with his gun
And that mornin'
his goods was all ruint

I tried I really did
to make thangs right
but it didn't do no good
We kept on kneadin' the dough
the yeast kept risin',
and the bread and the scones 
and the cakes and pastries
from that day forward they all
came out the oven with a hole in the middle
about yay big
that's the way thangs is
fer us now at the bake'ry

So'sn I stepped out the door 
moved down the street 
tord our busyness
twirlin' my Pistols whilst
people got out my way
and said under thur breaths to one 'nother
as I passed
Look, thar goes that

Son of a biscuit shooter


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