What Could Be Better?
He'll maybe have my smile
And your hair
Who can tell 'till the baby comes?
He'll maybe have my style
And your flair
And play fabulous drums
Just think
Inside me our genes have found their niche
They link, and out'll come one tap dancing kid
With perfect pitch
What could be better than your own little clone
Who'll reproduce all your talents
Plus a hint of my own
Consider
This kid'll be a one man band if we let her
Her?
Your sense of key and my great vibratto
Your melody and my obligato
That's what we've got, oh
What could be better than that?
Right, Danny? Danny? DANNY!
I'm thinking
I'm picturing my lips and your eyes
For a boy that's a perfect pair
I'm picturing my hips and your thighs
That is very unfair
No, no, I know
No one can predict what bird we'll hatch
But we're such genetic gems
That God can mix and match
What could be better than if our little spawn
Got all his brains from his dad
And from his mom got his brawn?
Imagine what one tiny mix-up could net her
Net him
Your button nose and my bushy eye-brow
You for the low brow, me for the high brow
Your brow and my brow, what could be better than that?
Lalalalala lalala lalalala lalala
Uh, Liz... How come?
I was careful, I swear it! I never forgot it! I don't know how it happened!
Maybe it's just that no barrier on earth
Could stand up against the vigorous lashing army of my sperm!
That must be it
Picture a flailing spermatozoan
Not even knowing where he is going
What's that ahead? A diaphragm! Screw it!
He knows he's dead. My god, he slips through it!
Suddenly he's alone in the river
Now he must seize the chance to deliver
Rounding the bend, the egg starts to glimmer
Is this the end for our little swimmer?
Catching the tide, he sails towards the mystery
Set to collide and change all of history!
What could be better than a family extension?
A genetic duet
A little two part invention
I say: Consider what we'll have in hand when we get her
Get him!
Your sense of mission, my sense of duty
Your disposition, my inner beauty
Your intuition, my sense of timing
Your composition, my crazy rhyming
Matching of taste that's really uncanny
My little waist
My little fanny
Lizzie and Danny, what could be better than that?
And your hair
Who can tell 'till the baby comes?
He'll maybe have my style
And your flair
And play fabulous drums
Just think
Inside me our genes have found their niche
They link, and out'll come one tap dancing kid
With perfect pitch
What could be better than your own little clone
Who'll reproduce all your talents
Plus a hint of my own
Consider
This kid'll be a one man band if we let her
Her?
Your sense of key and my great vibratto
Your melody and my obligato
That's what we've got, oh
What could be better than that?
Right, Danny? Danny? DANNY!
I'm thinking
I'm picturing my lips and your eyes
For a boy that's a perfect pair
I'm picturing my hips and your thighs
That is very unfair
No, no, I know
No one can predict what bird we'll hatch
But we're such genetic gems
That God can mix and match
What could be better than if our little spawn
Got all his brains from his dad
And from his mom got his brawn?
Imagine what one tiny mix-up could net her
Net him
Your button nose and my bushy eye-brow
You for the low brow, me for the high brow
Your brow and my brow, what could be better than that?
Lalalalala lalala lalalala lalala
Uh, Liz... How come?
I was careful, I swear it! I never forgot it! I don't know how it happened!
Maybe it's just that no barrier on earth
Could stand up against the vigorous lashing army of my sperm!
That must be it
Picture a flailing spermatozoan
Not even knowing where he is going
What's that ahead? A diaphragm! Screw it!
He knows he's dead. My god, he slips through it!
Suddenly he's alone in the river
Now he must seize the chance to deliver
Rounding the bend, the egg starts to glimmer
Is this the end for our little swimmer?
Catching the tide, he sails towards the mystery
Set to collide and change all of history!
What could be better than a family extension?
A genetic duet
A little two part invention
I say: Consider what we'll have in hand when we get her
Get him!
Your sense of mission, my sense of duty
Your disposition, my inner beauty
Your intuition, my sense of timing
Your composition, my crazy rhyming
Matching of taste that's really uncanny
My little waist
My little fanny
Lizzie and Danny, what could be better than that?
Credits
Writer(s): David L. Shire, Richard E. Maltby
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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