Baby, It’s Cold Inside

Ever wonder what “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” would sound like if it was modernized and reimagined as a duet between a hands-off dad and a nagging wife? And if both parts were sung by the same guy, using very low production values, shut up in a room so his kids wouldn’t find him while he sang with himself? Well, here you go!

 

Baby, It’s Cold Inside

I’m watching the game

(The Christmas program’s tonight)

It’s gonna be lame

(Your son has a solo tonight)

He’ll never know – just take one for the team.

(I know you’re not suggesting that I go just me.)

I’m supposed to telephone my dad

(Your excuses are pathetically sad)

I’ve got some more shopping to do

(Still shopping? That’s just like you.)

This is the worst cold I’ve ever had

(Now I’m just getting mad.)

Tomorrow I will come through.

(Tomorrow we’ll be leaving you.)

 

Come rub my feet.

(What planet do you come from?)

Why can’t you be sweet?

(You’re both useless and dumb.)

This is the time for a little piece on earth.

(You didn’t even come to our daughter’s birth.)

Why can’t we take a night to just chill?

(Your BS is making me ill)

This rift is an ocean wide.

(You’re the biggest thorn in my side)

I got to get away ’cause

Baby it’s cold inside.