Old Mother Hubbard she lived in a shoe

She had so many children she didn't know what to do

The cupboard was empty and the pantry was bare

There wasn't any food, oh dear what could she do?

The dog he lay starving in front of his dish

Dreaming of the days when he hunted for fish

Knowing what was to come, he done breathed his last

Life just wasn't fair, when you're an worn-out old hunting-dog

The years they did pass and the family pulled through

The old dog went well, having been served with a stew

The children left home all called off to war

Forty-seven little boys all brothers it's true

Went off to become men, which sung a scared and broken tune

While twenty-eight little girls now all young women would cry every night

When out of those forty-seven brothers only two would could home

Now old Mother Hubbard was home all alone

She reached for cane and got up off her chair

Her bones they did creak, her joints they did grown

As she hobbled for the kitchen in a thread born old gown

She conducted a survey of that it was true

The pantry was stocked and the cupboard stood full

She took one last look and knew what she could do

She left for her room as the gown that she wore just wouldn't do

Back in the kitchen now looking sixteen

Was what was once the old woman was now just a teen.

She rolled up her sleeves and slipped on an apron

Thrust her fist to the sky and declared what she would do!

"I'll open up a bakery for that's what I'll do!

I'll cook like never before and I'll get paid for it too!"

And that's what she did and quite well at that too

She sold out three times a week and baked till she dropped

She catered to royalty, for she was truly top-notch

She drank honeyed-tea and never any scotch.

Till this day she works still coated flower and dough

Always changing her name along with her looks just for show

The bakery's still there as serene as can be

Though you'd be hard pressed to find the shoe that it used to be.

The sign in the window as worn as could be

Its letters all lined with a gold filigree:

"Our Lady Hubbard's Bakery, Still as sweet as could be

Established in the year of 1593."