Lyrics

Michael I’m just calling, calling you my son
To let you know I had two gloves but now I just have one
I don’t know where it went, it was here and then it was gone
I guess this is just what it feels like when senility sets on

I’m at the PTI studios, trying to work out what I did
But all I can think to do, is call my first and most masculine kid
I am trying to remain calm and I don’t mean to whine
But every time I think about my lost glove I just want to curl up and cry

There is only one solution to this mess that I am in
Tell your mother and your sister I am headed to Delaware again
I am going to go to hit up those outlet malls and drop a few benjamins
Sure I’ll lose them by next fall, but who cares it is just your inheritance