Teksty: Adam Sandler. Bum Biddy.

Every one in this room has been associated with Whitey,
Either through basketball, or the mall, or the various odd jobs he does around town for free or at most a dollar
I'm guessing ninety-nine percent of you have either laughed in Whitey's face or ruthlessly made fun of his feet or voice or shortness or his sister when he wasn't looking
But the next time he'd see you he'd still go out of his way to wave and smile and ask you about your mother's operation or something like that because he unlike us actually cares about some one other then himself
The reason I bring this up to you is because I was the worst offender of all
My life was simply going no were
Then a tiny little man rushed to my side
He should've gotten a big thank you
Instead he got a port-a-potty ride
I was such a shit-head
But he never quit on me
'Till i told him he was useless
And his sister was freaky
Once when we were watching Sunday football
A fuzzy screen was all that we could see
Whitey came over with a hanger
And spent the game on top of our T.V.
And when the lightning struck him
He let out a wicked loud yell
But we just turned up the volume
And ignored the burning smell we should all rot in hell
I went to high school with Whitey
As a joke I told him to meet me at the prom
When he got there I said, a??I can't believe you thought I was seriousa??

So he ran home crying and slow-danced with his mom
What a crushing blow to Whitey
I bet you wish you could take it back
How could you all be so mean to Whitey?
Sound to me like you are all on crack
Tonight Whitey was counting on this town to show that we care
But the first time he really needed us we weren't there
And on Christmas Eve and the last night of Hannukah
It's just not fair
Bum biddy biddy biddy bum bum
Bum biddy biddy biddy bum
Bum biddy biddy biddy bum bum
Bum biddy biddy biddy bum
I wonder if that guy ever wiped his ass with the wrong hand (Yes)
Bum biddy biddy biddy bum bum
Bum biddy biddy biddy bum
Bum biddy biddy biddy bum bum
Bum biddy biddy biddy bum