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 50s, there was war in the streets, With Mussolini and his gangster's raiding Greek houses, For blood, and for meat.
The day a mother went to claim what was rightfully hers, They say a baker could have 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 thin, your stomach's flat, lady, your baby is probably dead. Will not be wasting my bread on liars," He said, Woman lower her head, face like thunder, Baker could have saved a mother and child from simple hunger.