She had a bun in the oven
It was a hot cross bun.
A bun that was damn hot and angry
Just puffing and steaming to be someone

It was the fifties
There was war in the streets
With mussolini and his gangsters raiding greek houses
For blood and for meat

The day, a mother went to claim what was rightfully hers
The same baker could've saved a mother and child from simple hunger

There was tradition in the village.
That when a woman is with babe
She is entitled to a free loaf of bread
But the baker must see her baby bump on display

But when the woman went to a baker
He looked her in the stomach and said
"you do not look very pregnant to me
You are so vain, your stomach's flat lady
Your baby is probably dead."

"will not be wasting my bread on liars"
He said, woman lowered her head
Face like thunder, baker could've saved a mother and child from simple hunger