歌詞

The flour falls like quiet snow

Into the golden bowl

I turn the handle, round and round

The flour drifts down slow

It lands upon the pumpkin gold

And softens all the glow

Then eggs and oil and brown sugar

And one long wooden spoon

Sift it fine, fold it in

Let the batter rise

Search me, Lord, and know my heart

And sift what's false from wise

The little lamb has flour freckles

Dotted on its nose

It watched too close and got a dusting

As the sifter goes

The batter turns to autumn-orange

Thick and smooth and sweet

Sift it fine, fold it in

Let the batter rise

Search me, Lord, and know my heart

And sift what's false from wise

Search me, O God, and know my heart

The psalmist asked it too

So let the fine and good remain

And sift the rest from view

Mmm... mmm... mmm

Sift it fine, fold it in

Let the batter rise

Search me, Lord, and know my heart

And sift what's false from wise

Sift it fine, fold it in

Let the batter rise

Search me, Lord, and know my heart

And sift what's false from wise

The flour fell like quiet snow

And the batter's ready now