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
No 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

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

It’s the American way
To have a big election
Go right out and vote
Make a presidential selection
All those politicians
Ain’t got a clue
Wouldn’t know their butt from a hole in the ground
Or a good Babalou

Babalou--Babalou
Babalou--Babalou
No matter what you do
You got to Babalou
Whatever else you do
You got to Babalou