small faces
song of a baker
There's wheat in the field And water in the stream And salt in the mine And an aching in me  I can no longer stand and wonder Cause I'm driven by this hunger So I'll jug some water Bake some flour Store some salt and wait the hour  While I'm thinking of love Love is thinking for me And the baker will come And the baker I'll be  I am depending on my labor The texture and the flavor