Tim Minchin - Lullaby lyrics
[Tim Minchin - Lullaby lyrics]
Sleep, little baby, sleep now my love
The Milky Way's shining high up above
When you grow up
You will learn all that stuff
But for now, close your eyes close your eyes
Sleep, little baby, try not to squawk
Tomorrow and tomorrow you'll learn
How to walk
To love and laugh, to make toast and talk
But for now, beddy-byes
Your blanket's hand-knitted with
Pure angora wool
Your nappy is dry and your tummy is full
Of enough antihistamine to chill out a bull
Yet still all this gringing
What more could you want for?
I just cannot guess
You constantly complain to me
You should feel blessed
There are children in Africa
Starving to death
And you don't hear them whinging
What more can I do to put a stop to
This mind-numbing noise you are making?
Where is the line between
Patting and hitting?
When is rocking "rocking" and
When is it "shaking"?
I don't know what else I can
Do to try to hush you
My heart says "I love you"
But my brain's thinking "fuck you"
And hoping a child trafficker will abduct you
At least then I'll get a few hours in bed
I've shushed and I've cooed and
I've even try to sing "Ob la-di
Ob la da" in the exact voice of Ringo
Now all I have left is to hope that a dingo
Will sneak in and rip off
Your fat bitching head
Hush little baby, don't say a word
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird
In the hope you get avian flu
The nice folk in A&E will take care of you
That's it, close your eyes, shhh, not a sound
I can barely see your tiny
Belly moving up and down
One thing they don't mention
In the parenting books:
Your love for them grows
The closer to dead they look
The Milky Way's shining high up above
When you grow up
You will learn all that stuff
But for now, close your eyes close your eyes
Sleep, little baby, try not to squawk
Tomorrow and tomorrow you'll learn
How to walk
To love and laugh, to make toast and talk
But for now, beddy-byes
Your blanket's hand-knitted with
Pure angora wool
Your nappy is dry and your tummy is full
Of enough antihistamine to chill out a bull
Yet still all this gringing
What more could you want for?
I just cannot guess
You constantly complain to me
You should feel blessed
There are children in Africa
Starving to death
And you don't hear them whinging
What more can I do to put a stop to
This mind-numbing noise you are making?
Where is the line between
Patting and hitting?
When is rocking "rocking" and
When is it "shaking"?
I don't know what else I can
Do to try to hush you
My heart says "I love you"
But my brain's thinking "fuck you"
And hoping a child trafficker will abduct you
At least then I'll get a few hours in bed
I've shushed and I've cooed and
I've even try to sing "Ob la-di
Ob la da" in the exact voice of Ringo
Now all I have left is to hope that a dingo
Will sneak in and rip off
Your fat bitching head
Hush little baby, don't say a word
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird
In the hope you get avian flu
The nice folk in A&E will take care of you
That's it, close your eyes, shhh, not a sound
I can barely see your tiny
Belly moving up and down
One thing they don't mention
In the parenting books:
Your love for them grows
The closer to dead they look