Gingerbread Man

I’m the gingerbread man, the gingerbread man,
Golden and bold with my gingerbread tan,
Fresh from the oven and baked to perfection,
The number one choice in your cookie collection.

I’m the gingerbread man, here’s my gingerbread fan,
It’s Rosie she’s rushing around with a plan,
With a shifting of stools and the pat of her feet,
She’s up at the counter; I’m now Rosie’s treat,

Oh wonderful Rosie you brighten this day,
As you bite off my legs and head on your way.

I’m the gingerbread man, less complete than before,
There’s a car in the driveway and keys in the door,
Home for the evening it's Mr McGee,
And he's looking for something delicious like me.

Oh Mr McGee now you’re hand’s drawing near,
One bite and a crunch and my arms disappear.

Here’s Mrs McGee she’s happy, what’s this?
The couple engage in a gingerbread kiss,
They scoop Rosie up and leave me to wait,
Partly devoured on a countertop plate.

I’m the gingerbread man, now I hear something stir,
Creeping around with his ginger tom fur,
He lands on the counter with soft padded paws,
And I’m taken and shaken in ginger tom’s jaws.

What a horrible feline, that terrible cat,
Mrs McGee will have words about that,
Chewed and abandoned on poor Rosie’s bed,
No longer a man, just a gingerbread head.

©RS2012