don't think this has been posted yet...

http://mikewadejournalist.blogspot.com/2009/02/friedman-bites-back-at-biscuits.html

Tale of a Baker’s Son
By Dean Friedman

Once upon a time there was a baker
Who spent all day making buns or cakes or
Rolls or loaves of bread or muffins
And he loved his work but it wasn’t enough and…

He longed to offer up his heart
to not just any tart,
but to one of substance and of virtue
but suitable candidates were oh so few.

Nigel Blackwell, pray please do tell:
How could your parents risk it?
A baker’s son, born of a bun…
Half a man, half a biscuit

He gently took her from the oven
Her sweet scent set off waves of loving
His eyes beheld her flakey crust.
He thought, ‘I mustn’t… but I must!’

Alas, Nigel’s dad could not resist her
He held her close and then he kissed her
Before another word was uttered
His momma’s buns were buttered

Nigel Blackwell, pray please do tell:
How could your parents risk it?
A baker’s son, born of a bun…
Half a man, half a biscuit

And so, please mark this poignant tale
Next time you see baked goods for sale
Which proves true love defies convention
(And leads to couplings we can’t mention)

And so, it comes as no surprise,
The kneady baker’s dough did rise
Though some may scoff, deride and scorn
From such forbidden love, Nigel was born.

Nigel Blackwell, pray please do tell:
How could your parents risk it?
A baker’s son, born of a bun…
Half a man, half a biscuit