Tim Minchin lo clava de nuevo con esta canción. Os dejo que el bebé llora y quiere teclear él también.
Actualización: ahora con la letra: si queréis la traducción… pues avisad.
Update: now with lyrics!
Lullaby, Tim Minchin
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 anti-histamine 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 winging.
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 and hush you,
my heart says I love you,
but my brain’s thinking fuck you,
and is 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 tried to sing Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da
in the exact voice of Ringo,
now all I have left,
is the 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&R will take care of you.
That’s it, close your eyes,
shhhh,
not a sound
I can barely see your tiny belly,
moving up and down,
one thing they don’t mention
in the parenting book,
your love for them grows,
the closer to dead they look.