Her name was flora spread 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.