Mushnik & Son Songtext
von Hy Anzell & Lee Wilkof

Seymour
Sir?

How would you like to be my son?
How would you like to be my own adopted boy?
I never liked him much before, but count the cash that′s in the drawer
I've got choice, I′m much too poor
Say yes (What for?)

Seymour, I want to be your dad
I'll gladly treat you like my blood and my own flesh
Like Ozzie Nelson, Dave and Rick?
Like Honey Fitz and take your pick
Then kiss me quick, I'll be your son
Don′t make me sick, just be my son


Mushnik & Son, sounds great
Three words with the ring of fate
So say you′ll incorporate with me
A florist's dream come true
Mushnik and his boychik, you
What business we′ll do for F.T.D

Like Andy Hardy and the Judge
Like Zeus and Mercury, like Dumas Fils and Pere
In trouble, sickness, and in health
We'll share the plant and share the wealth
I′ll call my lawyer (Call me son!)

Mushnik & Son, that's that
Officially I′m your brat
Consider the matter closed and done
Now to the world, let's stick
Our senior and junior shtick

Through thin and through thick
Through sloppy and slick
Through kiss and through kick
Mushnik & Son