You spew, bubble, and steam.
Howling like an instant combustion.
These phases of matter I can't explain.
My dear, you're more complicated than my chemistry research.
Sweet angel, from all these reactants, which will bring about the desired reaction?
I'm mixing, measuring, calculating every equilibrium throughout the days.
With nothing that brings a balance for the nights.
A recipe of hush, lullabies, and rocking, perhaps?
Maybe a beaker of warm milk to soothe your aching teeth?
Baby girl, you're quite the simple little thing, but simply destructive to my sleep.