My childhood days I still recall br Where there beside our wooden gate br I stood and waited for so long br Just gazing up the street, br Until the baker's van appeared br Familiar in its red and white br That stopped at almost every house br Until the round complete. br br Old Betty Hardman used to chat br To all the friendly people here br So glad to share her company br And pass the time of day, br Upon the doorstep loaf in hand br A ray of light to lonely folk br But conversation's over now br There's nothing left to say. br br Come rain or shine would always come br To bring our daily loaf of bread br Those times forever gone alas br It's such a desperate shame, br As one by one the orders fell br Until so few of us remained br It wasn't worth the effort and br The van no longer came. br br And now the street is hushed and still br With doors remaining firmly closed br The supermarket won the fight br And killed the Mothers Pride, br I pity those who never saw br The likes of which shan't come again br The happiness of long ago br Which now has sadly died.