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
'Cause 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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