By Amy Lee Hartmann

11/30/1995

It’s the diaper dance and only a baby would know,

This late night jig and how it should go.

Call your partner from her bed by crying so sad,

‘Cause your diaper is wet and the feeling is bad.

It does not matter how late, not even one or two,

It’s time to be changed and you’d sure like some food.

Now she’s picking you up and your cry gets quite bold.

Off goes the old diaper – ooh those wipes are so cold!

As she reaches for the new one, you finally see your chance:

Kick right leg, kick left leg – it’s the diaper dance!

Be sure to wiggle your body, legs still kicking strong.

Throw your arms over your head and see her join right along.

Now she’s caught up your legs and she’s changing the beat.

Here comes the dry diaper – she’s covered your seat!

So your dance has now ended, as you knew it would.

She snuggles you close, and the feeling is good.

Be it bottle or breast, however you eat – 

Your eyes soon betray you, and you go to sleep.

For Lorren; late November 30th into early December 1st, 1995