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In a river the color of lead
Immerse the baby's head
Wrap her up in the news of the world
Dump her on a doorstep, girl
This night has opened my eyes
And I will never sleep again
You kicked and cried like a bullied child
A grown man of twenty five
Oh, he said he'd cure your ills
But he didn't and he never will
Oh, save your life
Because you've only got one
The dream has gone but the baby is real
Oh, you did a good thing
She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool
Oh, you did a bad thing
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad
A shoeless child on a swing
Reminds you of your own again
She took away your troubles
Oh, but then again
She left pain
Oh, please save your life
Because you've only got one
The dream has gone but the baby is real
Oh, you did a good thing
She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool
Oh, you did a bad thing
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad
Oh la la la, ooh la la
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad
Oh la la la, ooh la la
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad
Immerse the baby's head
Wrap her up in the news of the world
Dump her on a doorstep, girl
This night has opened my eyes
And I will never sleep again
You kicked and cried like a bullied child
A grown man of twenty five
Oh, he said he'd cure your ills
But he didn't and he never will
Oh, save your life
Because you've only got one
The dream has gone but the baby is real
Oh, you did a good thing
She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool
Oh, you did a bad thing
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad
A shoeless child on a swing
Reminds you of your own again
She took away your troubles
Oh, but then again
She left pain
Oh, please save your life
Because you've only got one
The dream has gone but the baby is real
Oh, you did a good thing
She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool
Oh, you did a bad thing
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad
Oh la la la, ooh la la
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad
Oh la la la, ooh la la
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad
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"You can't just wrap it up in a bundle of newspaper." "...and dump it on a doorstep." "That river, it's the colour of lead." "I'm not sorry and I'm not glad." "Oh well, the dream's gone, but the baby's real enough." -A Taste Of Honey, by Shelagh Delaney