Numbers left for number's crunchers..
Sweepers, sweep on road paths, army in cleaning..
Flour sacks, stacked, packed in rooms, of bakers bakery..
Hooks on hooks, lay hanged in, butchers butchery..
Milk van floats, heard quietly moving, on milk rounds made..
He waits not for Christmas to deliver his presents..
Postman head through letter box slammed..
On front door ways, barks of woof, woofs follows after..
And now you know why ..
The postman not the milkman..
Got chased by the woof, woof..
For he disturbed the woof, woof's beauty sleep..
The farmer sat in combined harvesters..
Step by step, he filled up his trucks in harvesters..
With fruits and vegetables and a whole lot more..
Little Vienna, sat behind breakfast tables..
She looked bewildered, and ponded how..
How her breakfast got onto her table..
Before the morning, break of dawn..
The who, the how, the whom..
For the many men,Fathers Thank You..
He who, Who did lay a banquet..
And served little Vienna, her morning breakfast..
And her daddy his letters..
And the father's day card..
She gave the postman, the night before..
Before the morning break