my son is my son is my son

sixteen happy birthdays shared

were icing on the cake

but sixteen happy birthdays

do not a family make

you paid all that money

supporting someone else's son

come with me, corroborate

the drums have just begun

don't worry this is fashionable

thank god for dna

unfaithful little bitches

it's now their turn to pay

baiting his mum and angling for fun

in the sporting chance you play

my son is my son is my son is my son

I can't cast him away

no wanton wedge you may wish to wield

or what heredity may care to say

will dominate our environment

for mischief yesterday

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