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 aah!
(Ah!)
Say aaah!
(Ah!)
Now spit!
Writer(s): Alan Menken, Howard Elliott Ashman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com