Ah, here's to the man who's got no name,
Just a face in the crowd, looking just the same to me.
Everywhere I go, I know who I am.
Now, here's to the man who smiles at me,
As he shakes my hand so vigorously.
He can't figure me out if I'm "A," or "B," or "C."
["D," none of these; "E," all of the above are correct.]
[Do not mark on the test booklet! ]
Ah, here's to the man in the polka-dot necktie,
Don't quite understand, ah, but what the heck, I
Don't give a damn 'cause I know who I am.
[My little water chickadee, yes. ]
Universal facts apply or philosophy, now
And if you need a heart transplant, I'm definitely the man to see.
Ah, here's to the girl who loved them all
And I found her number on the bathroom wall
And it said I could call anytime after 6 P.M.
[Man, was she ugly! ]
Ah, here's to the guy who's got chapped lips
From eating too many potato chips
And I cracked up when he smiled at me and almost bled to death.
Yes, I know who I am. Yes, I know who I am.
[Now, before we bring out the crippled monkeys here on our show.]
Yes, I know who I am.
[You better not go for your gun, kid, or I'll shoot you where you sit.]
Yes, I know who I am. Yes, I know who I am.
Writer(s): Tommy James, Ritchie Cordell
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