With fish and loaves Our Blessed Lord the starving masses fed.
Miraculously proving Him the Church’s Sovereign Head.
Alas! No crust remains whereon our butter we might spread.
The nearest we can come today is Sara Beers’ Bread.
At Hastings, William conquered while the vanquished Saxons bled.
The Tower of London he had built to be his new homestead.
Why had the Normans all agreed to join that great spearhead?
While in their sleep, they’d dreamt a dream of Sara Beers’ Bread.
Throughout his reign six ladies did the eighth King Henry wed.
Two women he divorced, and two, he put to death instead.
What proved them so unsuitable to share his royal bed?
They did not have the recipe for Sara Beers’ Bread.
At Waterloo, Lord Wellington his noble soldiers led,
to victory, while Bonaparte’s defeated army fled.
Why didn’t he remain in France and quit while still ahead?
Bored with baguettes, he yearned to feast on Sara Beers’ Bread
It’s Sara Beers’ Bread my boys, it’s Sara Beers’ Bread
That makes our lot a happy one, as on through life we tread
When all is said and done my boys, when all is done and said,
It’s Sara Beers’ Bread my boys, it’s Sara Beers’ Bread
