[Verse 1 ] Do you know the Muffin Man, The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man? Oh, do you know the Muffin Man Who grinds the bones on Drury Lane? His flour’s pale as winter’s ash, His rolling pin is stained with red, The ovens hum a hollow tune For those who begged, for those who bled. [Chorus] Oh yes, we know the Muffin Man, The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man. Oh yes, we know the Muffin Man— We taste his work on Drury Lane. Each crumb that falls from trembling lips Is flesh that vanished in the night. We chew the grief we cannot name And swallow down the blight. [Verse 2] He greets the lonely at his door, A smile like cracked and yellowed tile. The cellar’s where the missing lie, His "special batch" takes weeks to style. The batter thickens, rich and dark, With secrets folded deep inside. A raisin? No—a tooth, a nail, The proof of how the last guest died. [Chorus] Oh, we all know the Muffin Man, The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man. Oh, we all know the Muffin Man— We trade our coins on Drury Lane. The children lick their sticky thumbs, The widows weep in silent dread. The bell above his shop still chimes For every soul he’s left unfed. [Bridge] The alley cats all sniff the air, Avoid the crumbs we toss away. The bakers know but knead in time— Their silence keeps the debt at bay. One day, he’ll knock upon *your* door, With pastries warm and bittersweet. You’ll ask, "What fills this buttery crust?" He’ll whisper, "Something fresh from meat." [End] Do you know the Muffin Man? The Muffin Man... the Muffin Man... Oh, pray you’ll never truly know What’s baked upon... Drury Lane...
