A mother was bathing her baby one night
The youngest of ten, a poor little mite
The mother was fat and the baby was thin
Only a skellington wrapped up in skin.
The mother turned round for the soap from the rack
She worn't gone a minute, but when she got back
Her baby had gone, and in anguish she cried
Oh, where is my baby? the angels replied:
Your baby has gone dahn the plughole
Your baby has gone dahn the plug
The poor little thing was so skinny and thin
He should have been bathed in a jug.
Your baby is perfectly happy
He won't need no bathing no more
He's working his way through the sewers
Not lost, just gone before.
|