Three characters sing about mixing their best genetic traits to create the perfect child, comparing inheritance to musical elements like pitch and vibrato. They imagine offspring named Jenny, Lily, and Danny while asking what could be better than combining the best of both parents.
Our first collaboration. Here we have my eyes and your hair. You can't tell us the meaning of. Here we have my style and your flair. And play fabulous drums.
Just you and I.
Inside me, our genes have found their niche. They link. And out comes a one-tap dancing kid with perfect pitch. What could be better than your own little clone? Who'll reproduce all your talents plus a bit more.
Of my own.
Consider, this kid will be all one man band if we let her. Your sense of key, my great vibrato.
Your melody, my own vibrato. That's what we've got.
Oh, what could be better than that?
Right, Jenny? Jenny? Jenny?
Think it. Puppetry, my lips and your eyes.
More of a bully, that's a perfect pair.
Puppetry, my lips and your eyes. Yeah, very No, no, I don't know, I can't predict what her will have. Oh, oh, oh, oh! We're such genetic gems that God can mix and match. What could be better than if our little slug got all his brains from his dad and from his mom got his broad, funny head? Imagine what one tiny being sucked in that birth.
Imagine!
Your button nose and my bushy eyebrow. With love from me for the whole entire world. Brow your brow with my brow.
What could be better than that? Please, how?
How could—
I don't know.
I swear I was careful. I never forgot it. I don't know how it happened.
Nature is descending.
No barrier on Earth could stand up against the vigorous blasting army of my sperm. That must be it.
Picture a fleeing spermatozoan, not even knowing where he is going. What's that ahead? A giant crevasse looming. He's not being dead. Oh no, he slips through it. Suddenly he's alone in the river. Now he must seize the chance to not live. Rounding the bend, he starts to clamber. It's risky and perilous, but catching the tide, it forms a mystery set to collide and change all of history.
What could be better than a family extension? Genetic.
You had a visual clue for invention. I think consider all we'll have in hand when we gather.
Yes, dear.
Your sense of mission, my sense of duty.
Your disposition, my inner beauty. Your intuition, my sense of sound. Your conversation, my crazy rhyming.
Nothing awaits, I'm really uncanny. My little wing, my little friend.
Lily and Danny, what will we find next?
