The baker starts at four o'clock
Dusting two hands and the counter tops
Steals the flour and peel
At six the butcher wipes down the block
In a storefront astride the docks
Steals a gleaming knife and steel
At midnight, the chandler's at the pot
Skimming the paraffin for flies it has caught
Steals the matches and the wicks
All three in their tubs, sailing alone
Downriver and paddling home
And the butcher carves the wheel
And the baker shouts at the mill
And the chandler burns up inside
Yeah, the chandler just burns up inside
The tools that we own and the skills that we hone
Won't help us down the river we're sailing alone
There is nothing to learn that just one of us knows
We all kill, we all yell, we all burn
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