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

'cos 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 labour

The texture and the flavour


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