There was a man

A little ole man

Who lived in Montreal

With a wife and a kid

And a car and a house

And a teenage daughter

With a see-thru blouse

Who loved to grunt and ball - -

And her name was Magdalena 



The little ole man

Came home one night

To his house in Montreal.

He caught his daughter

In the blouse by the light

And he said to himself:

"She looks all right!"

And he reached for a tit

And grabbed it tight

And threw her up

Against the wall

(BLUE CROSS!) 



Magdalena, my daughter dear,

Do not be concerned when your

Canadian daddy comes near.

My daughter dear

Do not be concerned when your

Canadian daddy comes near.

I work so hard,

Don't you understand,

Making maple syrup

For the pancakes of our land.

Do you have any idea

What that can do to a man

What that can do to a man?

Do you have any idea

What that can do to a man

What that can do to a man? 



The little ole man

With the grubby little hand

Who lived in Montreal

Was drooling a bit

As he reached for her tit

And he said to himself:

"This gonna be it!"

But the girl turned around

And said: "Go eat shit!"

And ran on down the hall.

Right on, Magdalena! 



My daughter dear,

Do not be concerned when your

Canadian daddy comes near.

My daughter dear

Do not be concerned when your

Canadian daddy comes near.

I work so hard,

Don't you understand,

Making maple syrup

For the pancakes of our land.

Do you have any idea?

What that can do to a man

What that can do to a man?

Do you have any idea?

What that can do to a man

What that can do to a man? 



Magdalena, don't you tease me like this

Right in the hallway with your blouse and your tits

If your mommy ever finds us like this

She'll call a lawyer, oh how mom will be pissed 



DOODLE DOODLE DOODLE DUH-DUH DEE-UH

DOODLE DOODLE DOODLE DUH-DUH DEE-UH 



Magdalena, Magdalena, Magdalena, Magdalena,

daughter of the smog-filled winds of Los Angeles,

I'd like to take you in the closet

and take off your little clothes

until you're virtually stark raving nude,

spread mayonaise and kaopectate all over your body

and take you down to Hollywood Boulevard

and we can, we can walk down the streets

by the stars that say John Provost and Leo G. Carrol

together, Baby.

We can go dancing up at the Cina Grill ... can't you 

see it: Frank Pernell and us, until dark ... don't you 

understand, my Baby ... I didn't mean, I didn't need, I 

mean ... it was so hard for me ... I just ... I saw you 

standing under the Shell pest strip late last night, in 

the light, with your little nipples protruding through 

your little see-thru thingie...and I just said 'My god, 

my god, I gave my sperm to this thing'...and now I 

just,...oh you got me so hard, I just, I don't know 

what to do Magdalena, don't you understand? So I 

grabbed you - but, but don't hold it against me - I 

mean, your mom will never know, Baby ... and I wantcha 

to come back to me... I mean... do you understand 

me?... I want you to... I'm down on my knees to ya, 

Magdalena... I wantcha ta walk back to me, Baby... I 

wantcha to turn around by the Sparkletts machine... 

that's it! that's it!... in the little chartreuse 

hallway with the little neon Jesus picture on the 

wall... and I want you to step, Baby, I want you to 

walk back in your f

ive inch spike heels that you got at Frederick's, same 

time you and your mommy got that crotchless underwear 

last year for the christmas... and I want you to stroll 

back to me, Baby... Walk back Baby, dontcha understand 

me Baby... I want you to walk back... I'm down on 

bended knees, Baby... I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I wanna 

take off your little trainig bra...Don't you understand 

me. I'm gonna take off you little maroon hot pants... 

I'm gonna get down on my knees, Baby... dontcha 

understand what I'm saying to you... your mom will 

never know... she's playing bridge with the girls... 

and you and I... you and I will... Baby, it's just you 

and I... dontcha understand... we can make love all 

night long... nobody will ever know... come on, 

Magdalena! ...please, little girl... walk back to your 

daddy... what did I do that was so wrong?...my god, I 

was only following the sexual impulse like I heard on 

the Johnny Carson Show...from a book or something I 

wrote, I didn't know what I was doing...I got carried 

away... walk bac

k, oh please, to your daddy!... come on, Magdalena... 

to your daddy, Baby... your mom will never know... come 

back to you daddy!...