From a sugar bowl womb,
came the World's Sweetest Girl--
Me.

I'm like a vision at lake side,
talking rot to the swans--
and oh how I do go
on
and
on.

I am formed of the frilly, the feminine, the fine--
thanks to old Daddy down the anthracite mine.

One step,
two step,
three step, five;
I'm made out of honey from an old bee hive.
Work bee,
fly bee,
sleep bee, then
sink that stinger if he tries it again.

Church on Sunday, Monday do the wash.
See if it sticks or scrubs right off.
Do you think I'm pretty?
Everybody does--

ask around,
ask Alice,
ask sweetly,
ask the swans.

Cree‑cree, Cree‑cree,
Papa Limbo,
Lè ou vini,
pa janm antre.

Papa Limbo,
tall and thin,
Creeping ‘round my house again.
Tip‐toe, tip‐toe,
can’t come in,
Salt and brick dust on my skin!

Metcha’ a man
inna’ crooked hat.
Sleeps all day with a one‐eyed cat.

Sings me a tune through his busted tooth,
’bout-a girl he lost
in a photo booth.

Jump, kid, jump.
Don’tcha fall.
Rusty nails
Rusty nails
stickin’ in a doll.

Gonna clap twice,
Spin a skirt around,
Listen to him moan like-a jail-house hound.

Trip that rope
hear his call
He’s still collectin’ girls for his picture wall.

Cree‑cree, Cree‑cree,
Papa Limbo,
Lè ou vini,
pa janm antre.

Clap two times,
spin about,
Papa Limbo,
you get out!

Red dust, white salt, slam the door,
Shadow can’t cross
my floor no more!