Caroline Smith and the Good Night Sleeps Follow

Little boys been coming around here.
Singing: "Caroline, na na na. Caroline."
Singing in circles around my head.
Singing in circles around my legs.
Singing: "Where'd he go?
Look at you all alone.
And isn't it a shame?"
They chant:
"How'd you let a man like him go?"

Pushing up babies, pushing them out.
Pushing up babies, pushing them out,
upright, but angled at their jutted out feet;
uncouth and bucktoothed with overgrown knees.
A calculate mind from the age of nine,
this appendage of mine, she'll be making it fine,
and she'll be screaming out:

"I'm coming up now!
I'm coming up now!
I'm coming down!
I am coming down!"

Planning the sequence, we're planning it out.
We're planning the sequence and we're laying it down.

And you'd say:
"The baby would crawl first and then she'd walk
and we'd mark the flowcharts then we'd talk
scholarships with the oversights."
You'd hit the switch, I'd kill the lights, wondering:
Baby, will she inherit your lips?