Baby in a Box

This tribute to B. F. Skinner, which I wrote some time around 1969 or 1970, is based on his article, "Baby in a box", originally published in a popular magazine and reprinted in his book, Cumulative Record. Many of the references in the song are to events and writings that postdate the original article. The tune is "Camptown Races".

I'm the baby in the box, googah, googah. All my toys are wired to clocks, googah all day. I live in a lab on a rubber slab, And every time I learn a trick my picture's in JEAB.

I'm the baby in the box, googah, googah. I like Pablum mixed with lox, googah all day. Yes, my diet's planned; nothing in it's banned. Now that I can't have MSG, everything tastes quite bland.

I'm the baby in the box, googah, googah. I get trained with love not shocks, googah all day. Trained to press a bar, someday I'll go far. I'll never take a coffee break when I am on VR.

I'm the baby in the box, googah, googah. I wear neither shoes nor socks, googah all day. Make my day complete: please adjust the heat. Put a diaper on my rump and nothing on my feet.

I'm the baby in the box, googah, googah. My views are unorthodox, googah all day. Freedom's not for me -- no, nor dignity. I'm content to just prevent the fall of society.