[He rubs his back, humming softly before starting to sing. It's nothing complicated, just a lullaby his mother used to sing him. His voice isn't the greatest for singing, but he's doing his best.]

Hushabye, hushabye,
My good baby, sleep.

Where did my boy's baby-sitter go?
Beyond that mountain, back to her home.

As a souvenir from her home, what did you get?
A toy drum and a shō flute.