Bread
Hailed through the ages as the staff of life,
It takes many forms in each town and fief.
There's white bread and brown bread, biscuits and scones,
And hoe cakes and muffins, crescents and corn pone.
When setting a table with china replete,
Without buns or rolls it's just not complete.
The main dish is scrumptious, the side dish is fine,
But the meal is a bust without bread of some kind;
And when a young man is seeking a wife,
If she can't make a biscuit there's gonna be strife;
So when it's all finished and all's done and said,
Please pass the biscuits it ain't supper 'thout bread.
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