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