One baby’s sleeping
By mother’s lullaby
His nose she’s clearing
Then she’ll wash the baby in a bay.
The baby has to wake up
And a helicopter’s flying by
The mother’s belly starts to move,
But she doesn’t know why,
And milk is pouring from the top,
And another love she has to prove.
The second unburned child,
Is the proof that love exists
And the baby’s very clean and wild,
Like a musician, he has fists.
Though the father us has left,
I don’t give a thing about the rest,
And the baby will always be mine
For I’m the mother and I’m fine!