It's The Hard-Knock Life
A Red Pikmin's whip was brought down on Loaf the Breadbug.
Cringing, he turned back and slopped soapy water over the stone floor. The Pikmin slave driver whistled cheerily, as if nothing had happened, then turned and walked away. Making sure all the slave drivers were gone, Loaf trundled out the other door to the garden, only to stumble into another Breadbug's house entrance. The owner, a young lady named Cream, came into view dragging the delicate carcass of an Unmarked Spectralid. Just as Cream reached her hole, the carcass burst into a thousand pieces. Cream sat down with a huff.
It's the hard-knock life, for us
It's the hard-knock life, for us
'Steada treated,
A few other slaves walked past, one carrying the rusted sediment of a thumbtack, more than likely his 'lunch' and 'dinner' all in one. They continued:
We get tricked,
Cream sloshed soap scum over her hole as a substitute for water:
'Steada kisses
We get kicked
It's the hard-knock life.
One Breadbug hitched itself to a plough and started plodding its way down the rows of corn seed:
Got no folks to speak of, so
It's the hard-knock row we hoe!
Loaf joined in, tugging at a piece of cotton:
Cotton Blankets,
'Steada wool!
A breadbug moaned and fainted. It was so thin that all the body fat was gone. His companion hoisted him up:
Empty Bellies,
'Steada full!
It's the hard-knock life!
Cream trundled down the pathway looking for food, but her search was in vain:
Don't it feel like the wind is always howl'n?
Don't it seem like there's never any light?
Another breadbug by the name of Berry was trying to clean her hole with a raggedy, dry, handkerchief. Giving up, she threw it into her hole:
Once a day, don't you wanna throw the towel in?
It's easier than puttin' up a fight!
A younger breadbug, who was asleep, woke up with a start and started to scream.
Cream ran over to it, patted it on the head, and helped it up:
No one's there when your dreams at night get creepy,
No one cares if you grow or if you shrink!
No one dries when your eyes get wet and weepy,
All of the breadbugs joined in:
From all the cryin' you would think this place's a sink! Oh!
The breadbugs moved to individual parts of the garden, watering plants and the like:
Empty belly life!
Rotten smelly life!
Full of sorrow life!
No tomorrow life!
A younger breadbug tripped over to Cream and Loaf:
Olimar we never see…
Cream looked like she was thinking hard:
Olimar, what's that? Who's he?
Some of the older breadbugs started shoving the younger one, but Cream pushed them away:
No one cares for you a smidge!
When you in an orphanage!
It's the hard-knock life!
The younger breadbug got up and pretended to be Pierre Gilligan, the master slavedriver:
You'll stay up 'till this dump shines like the top of the Shower Room!
All the breadbugs looked up and started to chase the younger one:
Yank the whiskers from his chin!
Jab him with a safety pin!
Make him drink a mickey finn!
I love you Mr. Gilligan!
All of the breadbugs marched single-file, breaking off when they got to their homes:
It's the hard-knock life, for us!
It's the hard-knock life, for us!
No one cares for you, a smidge!
When you're in an orphanage!
It's the hard-knock life,
It's the hard-knock life,
Its, the, hard, knock, life!!!
Fin