The Bastard Son Of Dean Friedman

Well I heard a lovely rumor
That Bette Midler had a tumor
So gleefully I went to tell my friends
But they said it was a lie
That she wasn't going to die
"And by the way, have we got news for you!"

And they told me that the man
I had always known as Dad
Hadn't met my Mum when I was born
And they reckon that I am
But I hope to God I'm not
The bastard son of Dean Friedman
The bastard son of Dean Friedman

And my school work fell behind
With this bombshell on my mind
But the art teacher said he understood

But he could only sympathise
With the sadness in my eyes
Even though he showed me his Magritte!

And in the "Corridors of Fear"
I would shed a lonely tear
As ridicule flew at me from both sides
And they mocked me in my mocks
And embroidered in my socks
The bastard son of Dean Friedman
The bastard son of Dean Friedman

Supercalifragilistic Borussia Mönchengladbach

And you can thank your lucky stars that you're not
The bastard son of Dean Friedman
The bastard son of Dean Friedman