When I was younger, just a bad little kid, My mama noticed funny things I did, Like shootin' puppies with a B B gun. I'd poison guppies, and when I was done I'd find a pussycat and bash in its head. That's when my mama said (What did she say?), She said, "My boy, I think someday You'll find a way to make your natural tendencies pay. You'll be a dentist. You have a talent for causin' things pain. Son, be a dentist. People will pay you to be inhumane. Your temp'rament's wrong for the priesthood And teaching would suit you still less. Son, be a dentist. You'll be a success. (Here he is, folks: the leader of the plaque! Watch him suck up that gas! Oh, my god! He's a dentist and he'll never ever be any good. Who wants their teeth done by the Marquis de Sade? Oh that hurts! I'm not numb!) Oh, shut up. Open wide. here I come! I am your dentist (goodness gracious!), And I enjoy the career that I picked. (Love it.) I am your dentist (fitting braces), And I get off on the pain I inflict. (Really love it.) I thrill when I drill a bicuspid. It's swell though they tell me I'm maladjusted. And though it may cause my patients distress, Somewhere, somewhere in heaven above me I know, I know, that my mama's proud of me (Oh, mama.) 'cause I'm a dentist and a success. Say ah! (Ah!) Say ah! (Ah!) Say ah! (Ah!) Now spit.
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