The Croissant and the Fishbone

The croissant and the fishbone,
When they are both full grown,
Of all the things in the bakery,
The croissant bears the crown.
The gaining of the bun,
And the sounding of the cheer,
The adding of the many annos,
All halfbakers aspire.

The croissant bears a crisp crust,
As golden as the sun,
And everyone writes their ideas,
To get another bun.
The gaining of the bun,
And the sounding of the cheer,
The adding of the many annos,
All halfbakers aspire.

The fishbone it is stinky,
And rotten to the core,
We strive so hard to dodge them
We don't want any more.
The gaining of the bun,
And the sounding of the cheer,
The adding of the many annos,
All halfbakers aspire.

The croissant it is flaky,
Its odour is divine,
An idea without fishbones
Is something truly fine.
The gaining of the bun,
And the sounding of the cheer,
The adding of the many annos,
All halfbakers aspire.

The fishbone has an odour
As bitter as any gall,
A blight upon a good idea,
We don't want them at all.
The gaining of the bun,
And the sounding of the cheer,
The adding of the many annos,
All halfbakers aspire.

The croissant and the fishbone,
When they are both full grown,
Of all the things in the bakery,
The croissant bears the crown.
The gaining of the bun,
And the sounding of the cheer,
The adding of the many annos,
All halfbakers aspire.