(Performs - Children, Doctor, Mrs Wormwood, Mr Wormwood, [bad word] 

My mummy says I'm a miracle.
My daddy says I'm his special little guy.
I am a princess,
And I am a prince.
Mum says I'm an angel sent down from the sky.

My daddy says I'm his special little soldier.
No one is as handsome, strong as me.
It's [bad word] he indulges my tendency to bulge,
But I'm his little soldier!
Hop, 2-4-3!
 [bad word] ]
My mummy says I'm a miracle.
One look at my face, and it's plain to see.
Ever since the day doc chopped the umbilical cord,
It's been clear there's no peer for a miracle like me!

My daddy says I'm his special little soldier.
No one is as bold or tough as me.
Has my daddy told you,
One day when I'm older,
I can be a soldier,
And shoot you in the face?

One can hardly move for beauty and brilliance these days.
It seems that there are millions of these one-in-a-millions these days.
Special-ness seems de rigueur.
Above average is average - go figure.
Is it is some modern miracle of calculus,
That such frequent miracles don't render each one un-miraculous?

[Repeat [bad word] 

My mummy says I'm a precious barrelina.
She has never seen a prettier barrelina.
She says if I'm keen, I have to cut down on the cream,
But I'm a barrelina, SO GIVE ME MORE CAKE!

Take another picture of our angel in that costume that I made.
The role of tree has never been portrayed with such convincing sway.
That's right, honey, look at mummy!
Don't put honey on your brother.
Smile for mummy; smile for mother!
I think she blinked.
Well, take another!
Have you seen his school report? He got a 'C' on his report!
What?!
We'll have to change his school. That teacher's clearly falling short.
She's just delightful. So precarious and insightful.
Might she be a little brighter than the norm?
I know to boast it's frightful form!

(Take another!)
My mummy says I'm a miracle.
(She looks lovely in this light.)
One look at my face, and it's plain to see.
(Honey... Honey...)
Ever since the day doc chopped the umbilical cord,
(Don't put honey on your brother.)
It's been clear there's no peer for a miracle like me!

My mummy says I'm a miracle.
That I'm as tiny and as shiny as a mirror ball.
You can be all cynical, but it's a [bad word] empirical.
There's never been a miracle, a miracle, a miracle as me!

[Interlude]

Every life I bring into this world restores my faith in humankind.
Each new-born life, a canvas yet unpainted...
This still unbroken skin...
This [bad word] mind...

[Bridge:]
Every life is unbelievably unlikely.
The chances of existence, almost infinitely small.
The [bad word] thing in life is life,
And yet every single life bearing new life is a miracle!
Miracle!

[Interlude]

Oh, my undercarriage doesn't feel quite normal.
My skin looks just revolting in this foul fluorescent light,
And this gown is nothing like the semi-formal, semi-Spanish gown
I should be wearing in the semi-finals tonight.
I should be dancing the tarantella -
Cui buon fare Italiano. [Italian: With good Italian manner]

Not dressed in hospital cotton,
With a smarting front bottom,
And this horrible -
(Miracle!)
Smelly little -
(Miracle!)
Weakly little bowl of fat!
(What the [bad word] was that?)
Would someone give this thing a bottle?
Or swap it for a later model!

Why do bad things always happen to good people?
Fine, upstanding citizens like you and me?
Why, when we've done nothing wrong,
Should this [bad word] along?
This horrible, weird-looking,
Hairy little stinky feet...
With no sign of a winky-dink at all!

Miracle! Miracle!
She&