The wise son says “Dad, wontcha call on me.” I know the Torah and the codes They’re good and they’re sweet And I know ‘em complete
The others might as well take a doze. La-di-die-diddy-die. . .
Sing us a song you’re the Pesah man Sing us a song tonight Well we’re all in the mood for a macaroon And you’ve got us feeling alright.
The wicked son curses: “bleep bleep bleep” If he’d been there he’d have died And he’s quick with a poke or to tell a bad joke And if his lips are moving it’s a lie
He says, “Dad I believe this is killing me.” As a smile grew big on his face “Well I’m sure that I could be a movie star If I could get out of this place.
Low the third of the sons is a simple guy Neither a dolt nor Einstein He’s simply gonna ask So we’ll answer, no task
And I think that’s really just fine.
And the fourth of the sons really has no clue He can’t even get the words out So we’ll tell him the story We won’t make it real boring
I don’t see us needing to shout. La-di-die-diddy-die. . .
Sing us a song you’re the Pesah man Sing us a song tonight Well we’re all in the mood for a macaroon And you’ve got us feeling alright.
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