By: Isaac Asimov
Tune: Home On The Range
Oh, give me a clone
Of my own flesh and bone
With its Y chromosome changed to X.
And after it's grown,
Then my own little clone
Will be of the opposite sex.
Clone, clone of my own,
With its Y chromosome changed to X
And when I'm alone
With my own little clone
We will both think of nothing but sex.
Oh, give me a clone,
Is my sorrowful moan,
A clone that is wholly my own.
And if she's X-X,
And the feminine sex,
Oh, what fun we will have when we're prone.
Clone, clone of my own,
With its Y chromosome changed to X.
And when I'm alone
With my own little clone
We will both think of nothing but sex.
My heart's not of stone,
As I've frequently shone
When alone with my own little X.
And after we've dined,
I am sure we will find
Better incest then Oedipus Rex.
Clone, clone of my own,
With its Y chromosome changed to X.
And when I'm alone
With my own little clone
We will both think of nothing but sex.
Why should such sex vex,
Or disturb or perplex,
Or induce a disparaging tone?
After all, don't you see,
Since we're both of us me,
When we're having sex, I'm alone.
Clone, clone of my own,
With its Y chromosome changed to X.
And when I'm alone
With my own little clone
We will both think of nothing but sex.
And after I'm done
She will still have her fun,
For I'll clone myself twice ere I die.
And this time without fail,
They'll be both of them male,
And they'll each ravage her by and by.
Clone, clone of my own,
With its Y chromosome changed to X.
And when I'm alone
With my own little clone
We will both think of nothing but sex.
