T. Hakola- words/music, guitars, bass, piano...
violin-Bénédicte Villain, drums-Zoé Hochberg & Tatiana Mladenovitch
contact/info: www.theohakola.com
THE BABY SONG
I was looking for a change, to sing a song I’d never sung
and I found it in babies and how I’d never had one
how they’re ugly as a Trump, shriveled old men
how on milk they get drunk and puke all over the playpen
and no matter how many times you tell them to abstain
they’ll do it again and again, again and again
Self-centered little fiends, they crap wherever they like
then take forever to learn how and where to do it right
And by the time they have teeth and can finally chew
if they don’t like their feed, they’ll spit that up on you too
If they don’t like... anything they’ll wail and whine till they’re blue
and your ears will be ringing by the time they’re finally through
It’s a simple fact of life, a tribulation so true:
Babies only care for themselves, babies care nothing for you
But despite the roaring din and boring waterworks,
there’s something to be said for those nasty little jerks,
something to be said for telling the unvarnished truth
and that’s what they’re all yelling until their last milk tooth
I want this, I want that, I’m too cold, I’m too hot
I want more, I want less, happy I am, happy I’m not
Never going in circles (except when they try to walk)
No beating around the bush in baby straight talk
Truth incarnate and no hint of vanity in this downy concentrate...
of humanity
Ah, but you have to carry them everywhere, some can’t even crawl
And spouting nothing but gibberish, they make no sense at all
The time you waste trying to decipher ‘em, you’ll never get that back
and then you have to diaper ‘em, going down the river of baby scat
Tiny tyrants, pint-sized autocrats,
Exploiting your affection, they abuse your best intentions,
and leave you regretting sidestepping contraception
With their pampered pleas and cries to be coddled and nursed
and their grievance-gushing eyes, lord, babies are the worst
It’s a simple fact of life, a sad reality oh so true:
Babies only care for themselves, babies care nothing for you
I’ll never be a seeder, never be a breeder, never one day multiply
never ever know how it feels to hear your very own baby cry
But this is not the end of the world, for the world’s long overrun
Better care for those already there melting in the unfiltered sun
They didn’t ask to be here, to survive getting by on the dregs
but the smoking sphere we’re leaving them is on its last legs...
violin-Bénédicte Villain, drums-Zoé Hochberg & Tatiana Mladenovitch
contact/info: www.theohakola.com
THE BABY SONG
I was looking for a change, to sing a song I’d never sung
and I found it in babies and how I’d never had one
how they’re ugly as a Trump, shriveled old men
how on milk they get drunk and puke all over the playpen
and no matter how many times you tell them to abstain
they’ll do it again and again, again and again
Self-centered little fiends, they crap wherever they like
then take forever to learn how and where to do it right
And by the time they have teeth and can finally chew
if they don’t like their feed, they’ll spit that up on you too
If they don’t like... anything they’ll wail and whine till they’re blue
and your ears will be ringing by the time they’re finally through
It’s a simple fact of life, a tribulation so true:
Babies only care for themselves, babies care nothing for you
But despite the roaring din and boring waterworks,
there’s something to be said for those nasty little jerks,
something to be said for telling the unvarnished truth
and that’s what they’re all yelling until their last milk tooth
I want this, I want that, I’m too cold, I’m too hot
I want more, I want less, happy I am, happy I’m not
Never going in circles (except when they try to walk)
No beating around the bush in baby straight talk
Truth incarnate and no hint of vanity in this downy concentrate...
of humanity
Ah, but you have to carry them everywhere, some can’t even crawl
And spouting nothing but gibberish, they make no sense at all
The time you waste trying to decipher ‘em, you’ll never get that back
and then you have to diaper ‘em, going down the river of baby scat
Tiny tyrants, pint-sized autocrats,
Exploiting your affection, they abuse your best intentions,
and leave you regretting sidestepping contraception
With their pampered pleas and cries to be coddled and nursed
and their grievance-gushing eyes, lord, babies are the worst
It’s a simple fact of life, a sad reality oh so true:
Babies only care for themselves, babies care nothing for you
I’ll never be a seeder, never be a breeder, never one day multiply
never ever know how it feels to hear your very own baby cry
But this is not the end of the world, for the world’s long overrun
Better care for those already there melting in the unfiltered sun
They didn’t ask to be here, to survive getting by on the dregs
but the smoking sphere we’re leaving them is on its last legs...
Category
🎵
Music