| There’s a tale of two little orphans who
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| Were left in their uncle’s care
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| To be reared and ruled and properly schooled
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| 'Til they grew to be ladies fair
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| But, oh, the luckless pair
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| For the uncle, he was a cruel trustee
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| And he longed to possess their gold
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| So he led them thence to a forest dense
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| Where he left them to die of cold
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| That, at least, is what we’re told
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| They were two little babes in the wood
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| Two little babes, oh so good
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| Two little hearts
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| Two little heads
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| Longed to be home in their two little beds
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| So the two little birds built a nest
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| Where the two little babes went to rest
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| While the breeze, hovering high
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| Sang a last lullaby
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| To the two little babes in the wood
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| They were lying there in the freezing air
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| When fortunately there appeared
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| A rich old man in a big sedan
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| And a very, very fancy beard
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| He saw those girls and cheered
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| Then he drove them down to New York Town
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| Where he covered them with useful things
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| Such as bonds and stocks, and Paris frocks
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| And oriental pearls in strings
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| And a showcase full of rings
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| Now, those two little babes in the wood
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| Are the talk of the whole neighborhood
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| For they’ve too many cars
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| Too many clothes
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| Too many parties and too many beaus
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| They have learned that the fountain of youth
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| Is a mixture of gin and vermouth
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| And the whole town’s agreed
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| That the last thing in sleep
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| Is the two little babes in the wood |