| Sleep, little baby, sleep now my love
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| The milky way’s shining, high up above.
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| When you grow up, you will learn all that stuff,
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| But now, close your eyes,
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| Close your eyes.
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| Sleep little baby, try not to squalk.
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| Tomorrow, and tomorrow, you’ll learn how to walk.
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| To love and laugh, Make toast/to totter and talk,
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| But for now, beddie byes
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| Your blanket’s hand knitted, with pure angora wool,
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| Your nappy is dry and your tummy is full
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| Of enough antihistamine, to chill out a bull,
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| Yet still all this grindging.
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| What more, could you want? |
| For I just can not guess.
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| You constantly complain to me,
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| You should feel blessed,
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| There are children in Africa starving to death,
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| And you dont here them whinging.
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| What else, can I do to put a stop to,
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| This mind numbing noise you are making?
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| Where is the line between patting and hitting?
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| When is rocking rocking, and when is it shaking?
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| I dont know what else I can do, to try and hush you
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| My heart says I love you but my brain’s thinking fuck you
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| And hoping a child trafficer will abduct you,
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| At least then I’d get a few hours in bed.
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| I’ve shushed, and I’ve cooed
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| And I’ve even tried to sing Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da,
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| In the exact voice of Ringo
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| Now all I have left,
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| Is to hope, that a dingo will sneak in and rip off your fat bitching head.
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| Oh hush, little baby, dont say a word!
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| Papa’s gonna buy you a mocking bird,
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| In the hope you’ll get Avian Flu, The nice folk in ANE will take care of you
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| That’s it, close your eyes, shhh, not a sound
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| I can barely see your tiny chest moving up and down
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| One thing they don’t mention in the parenting book
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| Your love for them grows, the closer to death they look |