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Born to Die Young (The Baby Carrot Song)
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Every year, millions of baby carrots are needlessly slaughtered for our salads. This song is dedicated to that 'vegetarian veal.' Oh, it rocks hard and part is in 13/8.
Free
Rock - Progressive Rock
Charts #14,862 today (peak #180)
Charts #1,539 in subgenre today (peak #22)
Words by Bryan, Music by Bryan, Ginger, Eric & Ben
2007
January 11, 2007
1 version uploaded:
MP3 4.8 MB  •  128 kbps bitrate  •  5:15 minutes
Lyrics
Whoa-oa, baby carrots Whoa-oa, baby carrots Pulled up by his roots like he's in Vietnam Yanked away from his screaming dad and mom He's got dirt in his hair and blood in his eye To be a part of your chicken pot pie It shouldn't be permitted and it shouldn't be allowed It wouldn't be OK if he was part of your crowd It wouldn't be permitted and it wouldn't be allowed If it was four million Native Americans coming out of your rectum Any loving diety would think it obscene To give your life for beta fucking carotene He's not even two, you stick him in stew Before his Bar Mitzvah his life is through You ain't no bunny rabbit, but you got a nasty habit Better leave him in the ground because you've got no right to grab it They've got no army, no lobby, no flag It takes a hundred abortions just to make one bag Two carrots met and they fell in love In the manure meadow You could tell that they were in love By the way that they fucked Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la Well you know that they had a baby And they raised him up to fear God Don't you know that you have no right To take him away... For your salad For your salad Whoa-oa for your salad For your salad No! No! Whoa-oa, baby carrots Whoa-oa, baby carrots Whoa-oa, baby carrots Whoa-oa, baby carrots For your salad For your salad Whoa-oa for your salad For your salad
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