DADA'S BABY BOY
(Parody)
 
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What is it the great British Public enjoys?
What is it brings poets in quids?
Far safer than ditties about roudy boys
Are songs about mothers and kids
Well, there's a kid who has lately struck ile
They say he's his parents joy
And I'm that identical juvenile
Dada's baby boy.

Chorus: I've beautiful eyes like a toasted shrimp
Dada's baby boy
Some people say what a 'wide' young imp
Is Dada's baby boy
Once when a neighbour was tending his plants
To fire at his boko I captured a chance
And now he is longing to dust the pants
Of Dada's baby boy.


How happy I feel when the charwoman calls
To put candle-grease on the stairs
She stands on her filbert, and gracefully falls
Jerusalem, how she Lord Mayors
I once nailed together our drawing-room suite
And used father's pipe as a toy
You should have seen mother spanking the seat
Of Papa's baby boy.

Chorus: I tied a tin can to our old tom cat
Dada's baby boy
And once made a pond in my father's hat
Dada's baby boy
When he came home -oh, he took down a strap
Quickly deposited me on his lap
And - damn it - he nearly 'wiped off the map'
Dada's baby boy.


A certain old gent was disgusted to find
That he couldn't have his own way
So off to the Queen well he went and resigned
And filled all the 'Rads' with dismay
A rich Upper Chamber, he said, was a fraud
A sham - that they ought to destroy
And yet his successor himself is a lord
Gladdy's baby boy.

Chorus: He is very well known in the land o' cakes
Gladdy's baby boy
A horse that has won him the Derby stakes
Lada's baby boy
Not long ago it was easy to see
That he was favourite with old Mr G.
He rose-berry quickly, did Rose-beree
Glady's baby boy.


Once on a time a notorious 'Rad'
Was talked of all over the town
For slandering many a brave soldier lad
And running his countrymen down
No one believed in his stories foresooth
'Twas plain they were meant to annoy
For no one believed that the virtue called truth
Was Labby's baby boy.

Chorus: Everyone treated his journal - well, as
Labby's baby boy
The fables he printed were told to sell
Labby's baby boy
But when he slandered our soldiers, you see
Every true Briton was bound to agree
That 'Truth' as a virtue, could never be
Labby's baby boy.
 
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Written by Charles Osborne
Performed by Herbert Campbell (1844-1904)
 
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