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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