In the middle of the ocean Storm clouds risin' A young Christopher Columbus Was searching the horizon The crew say, hey Chris, what we gonna do All that he could say was Baba... Baba... Babalou Babalou... Babalou Babalou... Babalou Not matter what you do You got to Babalou God's chosen people Were marching 'round the wall They played so loud The wall began to fall Above all the screaming A voice came cuttin' through Joshua was singing Baba... Baba... Babalou Babalou... Babalou Babalou... Babalou Not matter what you do You got to Babalou In nineteen fifty-seven I was seven years old Glued to the TV set Wouldn't do a thing that I was told I loved Lucy Fred and Ethel too And Ricky when he sang Baba... Baba... Babalou Babalou... Babalou Babalou... Babalou Not matter what you do You got to Bablou It's the American way To have a big election Go right out and vote Make a presidential selection All those politicians They ain't got a clue They wouldn't know their butt from a hole in the ground Or a good Babalou Babalou... Babalou Babalou... Babalou Not matter what you do You got to Babalou Babalou... Babalou Babalou... Babalou Not matter what you do You got to Babalou What ever else you do You got to Babalou