The Fox, the Crow, and the Cookie

Through mostly vacant streets
A baker from the outskirts of his town
Earned his living peddling sweets
From a ragged cart he dragged around
The clever fox crept close behind
Kept an ever watchful eye
For a chance to steal a ginger spice cake
Or a boysenberry pie

Looking down was the hungry crow:
"When the time is right, I'll strike
And condescend to the earth below
And take whichever treat I'd like"
The moment the baker turned around
To shoo the fox off from his cart
The crow swooped down and snatched a shortbread cookie
And a German chocolate tart

Using most unfriendly words
That the village children had not yet heard
The baker shouted threats by canzonette
To curse the crafty bird
"You rotten wooden mixing spoon
Why, you midnight-winged raccoon
You better bring those pastries back
You no-good burned-black macaroon"

The fox approached the tree
Where the bird was perched delighted in his nest
"Brother Crow, don't you remember me?
It's your old friend Fox with a humble request
If you could share just a modest piece
Seeing as I distracted that awful man"
This failed to persuade the crow in the least
So the fox rethought his plan

"Then if your lovely song would grace my ears
Or to even to hear you speak
Would ease my pains and fears!"
The crow looked down with the candy in his beak
"Your poems of wisdom, my good crow
What a paradise they bring!"
This flattery pleased the proud bird
So he opened his mouth and began to sing:

"Your subtle acclamation's true
Best to give praise where praise is due
Every rook and jay and corvidae's
Been raving about me too
They admire me, one and all
Must be the passion in my caw
My slender bill known throughout the escadrille
My fierce commanding claw!"

I got a walnut brownie brain
And molasses in my veins
Crushed graham cracker crust
My powdered sugared funnel cake cocaine
Let the crescent cookie rise
These carob-colored almond eyes
Would rest to see my cashewed princess
In the swirling marble sky
Would rest upon the knee
Where all of the visions cease to be
A root-beer float in our banana boat
Across the tapioca sea
When letting all attachments go
Is the only prayer we know
May it be so
May it be so
May it be so
Oh