I roll out slow, two hands on the bar
Sun on my sleeves, not far
Past the corner store and the paint-flaked fence
Kicking up dust with a tiny little sense
That today’s gonna fit me just right
One good ride before noon gets bright
Basket tied tight, little jolt when I steer
Same old route, same easy gears
Kids on the curb with a melted popsicle grin
I wave on by, they wave back in
And the whole block smells like warm air
Like something sweet is waiting there
I can see the awning
Half a block away
My heart gets lighter
Every turn I take
The bell on my bike
Gives a tiny ring
Like it knows what I’m here for
Like it knows everything
Fresh bread, fresh bread
Right from the oven
Fresh bread, fresh bread
I’m bringing it home
Fresh bread, fresh bread
Warm in the basket
Fresh bread, fresh bread
And I’m not rushing back
Inside, the window fogs from the steam
Rye on the shelf and a glossy loaf sheen
The baker says, “Morning,” with flour on his hands
I point to the round one, he knows my plan
Crackling crust, still singing low
I pay in coins and let the paper fold
Back on the bike, it’s a softer kind of ride
One loaf perched like a sunbeam inside
I take the long way through the maple shade
Let the front wheel dance in a bright parade
Every bump feels small, every mile feels kind
With that warm little kingdom behind
I can smell it opening
Through the cloth and twine
Like a secret kept
In the back of my mind
The street turns gold
And the sparrows lift
I’m halfway home
With a perfect gift
Fresh bread, fresh bread
Right from the oven
Fresh bread, fresh bread
I’m bringing it home
Fresh bread, fresh bread
Warm in the basket
Fresh bread, fresh bread
And I’m not rushing back
I set it down by the window
Let the crust cool slow
One slice for the table
One slice for me to know
That a simple little morning
Can still turn out bright
When you ride for the loaf
And you get it right
Fresh bread, fresh bread
Right from the oven
Fresh bread, fresh bread
I’m bringing it home
Fresh bread, fresh bread
Warm in the basket
Fresh bread, fresh bread
Best ride of the day
Sun on the counter
Crumbs on my shirt
Fresh bread in the house
That’s the whole world worth
