The naughtiest runt a little runaway
I peeped the pixies parked along the fringe
Id flinched at veges flavour not okay
Their flour they ground in mills on bread Id binge
Amidst the pixie ladies shaving minge
I met again a girl there hers the tilted nose
And pointed ears the surgeons slice and singe
Of cookie cribber core to parents woes
In fast and feast odd child a pixie grows
They give you wooden wings to fan the flames
Once manacled youre bonsai bound to doughs
The pixie baker never body shames
The dust of saw and scythe inside the bread
It fills your fantasy you feel you fed
Chorus bread brood brot
