Everybody’S Baby

Pray, where does the bonniest baby dwell, The sweetest that ever did grow? Say, where shall I find it, now truthfully tell, Please show me the way I must go.

The bonniest baby that ever did grow, Without a “perhaps,” or a “maybe,” It is hers, it is mine, it is his, it is thine; Oh, it’s everybody’s baby!

But choices in babies there surely must be, Though all may be charming and pretty; The fairest, the rarest, the dearest of all, Must needs be the theme of my ditty.

The very same story I can but repeat, Without a “perhaps,” or a “maybe,” It is hers, it is mine, it is his, it is thine; Oh, it’s everybody’s baby!

There isn’t a baby on earth, you maintain, That isn’t a duck and a treasure, A beauty, a jewel, a poppet, a pet, The life of the house and its pleasure?

I stoutly maintain it; I state it again, Without a “perhaps,” or a “maybe,” It is hers, it is mine, it is his, it is thine, It is everybody’s baby!