The Little Pie Blues

She’s my favorite Little Pie on the window sill

She’s my favorite Little Pie on the window sill

I heard one taste of you, mama, would be any man’s fill

 

In the evening when the clouds seem to sigh

In the evening when the clouds seem to sigh

they say I’m an easy man to satisfy

 

Rhubarb, Pecan, Pumpkin, Apple or Peach- 

don’t matter to me, what you preach

Strawberry, Blueberry, Rasberry, one of each- 

with a cup of tea always in reach

Won’t you come out of that oven, mama?

I’ll be the breeze that you seek