Her name was Florence Bread and she lived on Hovis Hill
Overlooking baker town from the window of her flour mill
The bright lights of the city fueled her longing to create

With the innovative bakers with whom she knew she could relate

She saw the cakes they cooked and the muffins that they made

But she kept beating her bread all the while, feeling betrayed
That her mother left her in this mess of yeast, flour and dough
She must taste inspiration and stop chewing the bread of woe


Down in baker town lived Victoria Sponge
But her cakes weren't selling

So she knew that it was time to take a plunge
Into the new, and see things from a brand new view
And yes young miss Flora I am talking to you


Will you come down that hill of yours and work here in my shop
You might have to bake until the ovens pop

But I need your creative eye
With my wisdom and your innovation
Together we can bake the perfect success pie


Bread
Bread


After just one week in that shop, Flora's business was booming
Her creativity blooming and her customers consuming

But looming, on the horizon, lay a rising problem
People couldn't stop eating, and there was nothing that could stop them


What was once a people of pretty balanced diets
Baker town without it's bread was revolution without riots
Flora closed her shop down, but she knew it was too late

And soon enough the population of the town was overweight

Bread

Bread

And so, the very next day

Flora went back to her mill and opened up her bread shop
But it seemed, to flora's dismay that no one wanted her bread
And she was left alone up the hill top


Victoria sponge kept on baking
With recipes she stole from floras notes

And Flora's heart kept on breaking
As the cakes continued rising, and the bread became toast