God, if only you knew the trouble of
communicating through
icing colors and cake flavors -
The baker, baker - oh, that
poor, old baker takes care of me
now that you're away. She tries
to help me get through to you
as you go waltzing
with another toy -
what is it this week? (I'm sorry,
that was rude, who is she?)
The waitress from the bar?
It is such a shame
you ran away for another
cornflake girl. Now you'll never
know he beauty of
meeting Mrs. Jesus
on a real playground.
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