[Intro]
Whisk in hand, flour flies in the air.
[Verse]
A seasoned baker, sleeves dusted with flour,
Gazes at the starter who won’t rise anymore.
"Rise up, dear dough," he croons with a hopeful grin,
The whisk taps a goofy tempo on a tin.
[Chorus]
Rise, rise, little dough, give us a sign,
Serenade me softly till the dough is mine.
If you want a loaf, charm us with a croon.
[Verse 2]
The whisk drums a comic rhythm on the pan,
Dough sighs and pops, then lifts a lazy span.
A crusty sunrise blooms as laughter fills the room,
And the starter giggles, finally breaking bloom.
[Chorus]
Rise, rise, little dough, give us a sign,
Serenade me softly till the dough is mine.
If you want a loaf, charm us with a croon.
[Bridge]
Oven yawns, the audience crumbs applaud in glee.
[Outro]
The loaf cools, and the kitchen smiles at the oddity.
