When your mother bakes a batch of scones she always makes too many…
On the first day they’re the perfect thing to have with your Devonshire tea
On the second day, a relegation, only just good enough for me
On the next day, the hardened pastry just cannot be squeezed
And on the fourth day the only things retaining edibility
Are the sultanas, from Foodtown
Juicy little bits that make it good
They’re sultanas, from Foodtown
Virtuous reminders of motherhood
They’re sultanas, from Foodtown
I know the things that mean everything to you
And I know that what you say just can’t all be true
You don’t know the way I know that everyone’s a scone
And the only things that are really left when everything else is gone
Are the sultanas, from Foodtown
Juicy little bits all stuck in the middle
They’re sultanas, from Foodtown
Ba ba ba-ba ba-ba ba riddle
They’re sultanas, from Foodtown
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