Lullabies for Misandrists -The Toast

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When I’m worried and cannot sleep
I count all the male peers I’ve already outstripped professionally and laugh a full-throated laugh

(To the tune of John Mayer’s “Daughters”)
Women, make more than your husbands
Husbands will sob when you do

Baa, baa, black sheep
Have you any wool?
Yes, sir; yes, sir;
Kill all men

Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One ha’ penny, two ha’ penny,
Hot cross buns!
If you have no daughters,
Give away your sons
One ha’ penny,
Two ha’ penny,
Hot cross buns!

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word
Ever; your sister is talking

Georgie Porgie, puddin’ and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry,
When the boys came out to play
The girls sharpened their knives and made a decision.

Little Miss Muffett
Sat on a tuffett
Eating her curds and whey.
It was illegal for white men to practice medicine.

Hello young lovers, whoever you are,
I hope your troubles are few.
All my good wishes go with you tonight,
Feminism doesn’t go far enough.

Hickory, dickory, dock
You know what this rhymes with
And what we’ll do to it.
And you won’t like it.

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
She was right to do it; nothing a woman does should be criticized.

In a great green room
there was a telephone
And a red balloon
And a picture of the cow jumping over the moon.
And there were three little bears sitting on chairs
And two little kittens and a pair of mittens
And a little toy house and a young mouse.
And a comb and a brush
And a bowl full of mush
And a quiet old lady who was whispering “Hush” to her male inferiors.

It’s raining, it’s pouring;
The old man is snoring
Now is our chance.

Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown,
And Jill danced on his grave.

Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree-top
When the bough breaks, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
Under patriarchy, every woman’s son is her potential betrayer.

One, two,
Buckle my shoes;
Three, four,
Open the door;
Five, six,
Pick up sticks;
Seven, eight,
Lay them straight:
Nine, ten,
Start over again, male.

Now it’s time to say good night
Good night, sleep tight
Now the sun turns out xirr light
Good night, sleep tight
You are not permitted to dream,
It is not permitted for men to dream.

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