Little Adolf

Bo Burnham

Here he is, our little bundle of joy
We did it honey, it's a baby boy
We'll love him and raise him, 'til he finally leaves us
What should we name him? How about Adolf?
Little Adolf

He's growing up, like little boys do
He's grown a mustache and he's only two
He's a pyrotechnic and he loves to play with knives
And our little buddy gives the weirdest high fives

Little Adolf, Little Adolf
Little Adolf, Little Adolf
He's a dictator tot
Dictator-tot

He gets a little bit angry, but he's smart as hell
And who taught him how to speak German so well?
He doesn't like milk, soda hurts his head
I tried to give him juice, this is what he said

"I hate juice, okay?"
"Ok, Hitler, please, drink your juice. I'm tired, I want to go to bed."
"Just, you know what? Get the juice out of here, out of this house, out of this country, now."
"Hitler, get the j... what do you want me to do with...?"
"Put the juice in camps and separate them."
"Separate juice? Hitler, what you want me to do, separate them by flavor? By like, concentration?"
"Concentration... eh?"

Little Adolf, he's a dictator-tot

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