The Smokey Gray Carcinogen Blues
Channel: Ross Martin
Date: 2012-12-02

The Smokey Gray Carcinogen Blues 
Written and Performed by Ross D. Martin, MD, MHA, FACMImimi
 December 1998, Fairborn, Ohio

The Smokey Gray Carcinogen Blues 

I know you can't tell I'm a superhero just from the sound of my voice, but it's true — I'm Babyman — fighting for truth, justice, and the eradication of diaper rash from the planet! Of course, I haven't always been a superhero. Like most superheroes before me, my transformation involved a freak accident. I make my living as an obstetrician, and one day during a delivery, I was bitten by a radioactive baby. Over time, I became Babyman! And, like most superheroes, I have acquired amazing superpowers. I can projectile vomit thirty feet in any direction. When backed into a corner, I can emit an ear-piercing scream that not only deafens my would-be assailant, but also summons any mother within a three-mile radius to come running to my aid. But the most important superpower I possess is the ability to understand babytalk. You see, most people assume that babies cry when they're born because they're cold or hungry. Not true. They've been cooped up for nine months listening to everyone else talk without being able to get a word in edgewise and they are ticked! Most of them, of course, are upset about the fiscal cliff. And they were totally fed up with all the election ads, which sounded very scary in utero. But a while back, a baby came out and said, "Look, pal, could you do something about the cigarettes already? I was dying in there!" In consideration of his plea, I offer this song about smoking in pregnancy — from the baby's perspective... 

Well, I started out life a' thinkin' I was cool
Just floatin' around in my private swimmin' pool
Not a care in the world, though sometimes I'd get bored
So I'd pass the time playing jump rope with my cord
Then one day I woke up with a ringing in my ears
My head was a' spinning — I cried amniotic tears
I couldn't throw up a window in my womb without a view
So I kicked my Ma to say I needed more O2. 
I said, "Yo, Ma! What gives? How bad's it gonna get?" 
That's when I knew she was puffin' on a stinkin' cigarette! 
My Mama's smokin' cigarettes — oh, what can I do? 
I've got the smoky gray carcinogen blues. 

Now I start off each morning feelin' weak and turnin' green
'Cause my mom feeds me breakfast made with tar and nicotine
My body's always hungry, looking for some descent eats
I'm just wastin' away from my head down to my feets
I keep strugglin' along 'cause I got nowhere else to go
But I can tell by my size I'm gettin' insufficient flow
My Mama's hooked on cigarettes — oh, what can I do? 
I've got the smoky gray carcinogen blues

Oh, Doctor, can't you help me? Aren't you an M.D.?
Living in this smoke-filled womb is not my cup of tea
But you keep leading Mom on, saying everything is fine
Hey, Doctor, can't you read the "No Smoking" sign?

My placenta's so old, it's gonna have a heart attack
So I'm checkin' out early from this dirty one-room shack
My Mama's smokin' cigarettes — oh, what can I do?
I've got the smoky gray carcinogen blues

I said, my Mom won't kick the habit — oh, what can I do?
I've got the dingy brown got-me-down...
Stinkin' black heart attack...
The grimy green nicotine blues.

(c)1995 Ross D. Martin, MD, MHA, FACMImimi
The American College of Medical Informatimusicology