I sing Wind the Bobbin and Wheels on the bus, and some Woody Guthrie sings, Ship in the Sky, Good Night Little Arlo, but I change Arlo to the child's name, and I'm gonna wrap myself in paper, I'm gonna daub myself with glue, stick some stamps on top of my head and I'm gonna mail myself to you.
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers, They're Changing guard at Buckingham Palace, Daddy's taking us to the zoo today, 4 little ducks went out one day,
and a cockney music hall one;
A mother was bathing 'er baby, bathing 'er baby one night. The mother was fat and the baby was thin, just like a skelington, covered with skin
She only turned round for a minute, to reach down some soap off the wrack
She only turned round for a minute, but oh when she turned back!
Her baby had utterly vanished! Vanished completely away.
Oh where, oh where is my baby? She heard an angel say.
Your baby has gorn down the plughole. Your baby has gorn down the plug.
The poor little fing was so skinny and thin, it should have bin bafed in a jug.
Your baby is perfectly happy. 'ee won't need no bathing no more.
Your baby has gorn down the plug hole. Not lorst, just gorn before.
We sing that in the bath when she doesn't want to come out and I take the plug out, but she'd never fit down the plug hole 