| Are we wollin'? |
| A one, a two, a free, a four…
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| A mother was washing her baby one night,
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| The youngest of ten and a delicate mite.
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| The mother was poor and the baby was thin,
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| 'Twas naught but an skelingtin covered with skin.
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| The mother turned 'round for a soap off the rack.
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| She was only a moment but when she turned back
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| Her baby had gone, and in anguish she cried,
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| Oh, where 'as my baby gone? |
| The angels replied:
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| Oh, your baby has gone down the plug 'ole.
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| Oh, your baby has gone down the plug.
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| The poor little thing was so skinny and thin,
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| He should 'ave been washed in a jug, in a jug.
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| Your baby is perfectly happy;
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| He won’t need a bath anymore.
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| He’s a-muckin'about with the angels above,
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| Not lost but gone before.
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| Thankyou,
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| Do you wanna do it again? |