I ain’t got a toaster, so I’m feelin’ sad,
but I’m finding: there are none to be had.
So, for one I can’t pay;
therefore in AM every day,
toast I can’t, so I’ll fry my bread.

I use sourdough; by its name you can tell that it’s not sweet,
but cooked bread I so do like to eat.
So I have made a vow:
I’m gonna get it singed right now—
in a pan I’ll fry my bread.

Don’t want to fry when there’s people there;
they get wide-eyed and start to stare
and think that I have gone astray.
But I’ll get a toaster one day.

And when I do, it’s gonna be a new world:
Out of the slot toast will be hurled.
Then I’m gonna taste what ensues;
I’ll have no more the no-toaster blues.
Until then, I’ll fry my bread.

Don’t want to fry when there’s people there;
They say, “Why?” as they darkly stare.
They’ll think that I am no gourmet,
but I’ll get a toaster one day.

And when I do, it’s gonna be a new world:
Out of the slot toast will be hurled.
Then I’m gonna say to my crew:
“I will get a toaster oven, too!”
But till then, I’ll fry my bread.