SURROGATE MAMA

words and music by Howard Kranz

He gives her his seed artificially;

she carries the child cause heís paid her.

They are businesslike partners initially;

the passion comes in much later.

 

O surrogate, surrogate, surrogate mama,

Surrogate, surrogate, it kind of grows on ya.

She gives it birth, but itís not really hers;

she just carries it for someone else.

 

Now itís all very clear in the contract

just who gets what and from whom.

And the kid hasnít met his mom yet;

heís just living in a rented womb.

 

O but mamaís run off with the baby!

The delivery contractís been broke.

And daddyís wife paces the halls

with a box of cigars that nobody will smoke.

 

Now I do things for money or love,

and I smile when you ask how I feel.

And weíll find out when push comes to shove:

are we surrogate, or are we real?

 

O surrogate, surrogate, surrogate mama,

Surrogate, surrogate, it kind of grows on ya.

She gives it birth, but itís not really hers;

she just carries it for someone else.