Oh Miss Joan Currant Bun, Miss Joan Currant Bun,
How Glad I am, sad I am, chuffed that you won
The Baker’s Convention at Chester-le-Street,
Your cakes were phenomenal, the world’s at your feet,
You dazzled with coconut, excelled with fresh cream,
Your icing was masterful, your rock buns a dream,
I sat on the panel and named you the one,
Miss Wonderful, Marvellous, Joan Currant Bun.
Now the convention is over, the bakers are leaving,
As I watch you departing my heart it is heaving,
I cry out to you, Sweetheart, my heart it is done,
I give you my everything, Joan Currant Bun.
And you turn on the concourse and open your arms,
Say, Darling, on you I bestow all my charms,
My recipes, secrets, techniques by the ton,
Please take with the blessing of Joan Currant Bun.
Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved