| Oh, many, many years ago
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| When I was twenty-three
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| I was married to a widow
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| Who was pretty as can be This widow had a grown-up daughter
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| Who had hair of red
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| My father fell in love with her
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| And soon the two were wed
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| This made my dad my son-in-law
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| And changed my very life
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| For my daughter was my mother
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| 'Cause she was my father’s wife
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| To complicate the matter
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| Though it really brought me joy
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| I soon became the father
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| Of a bouncing baby boy
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| This little baby then became
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| A brother-in-law to Dad
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| And so became my uncle
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| Though it made me very sad
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| For if he was my uncle
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| Then that also made him brother
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| Of the widow’s grown-up daughter
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| Who of course is my step-mother
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| Chorus
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| I’m my own grandpa
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| I’m my own grandpa
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| It sounds funny I know
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| But it really is so Oh, I’m my own grandpa
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| My father’s wife then had a son
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| Who kept them on the run
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| And he became my grandchild
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| For he was my daughter’s son
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| My wife is now my mother’s mother
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| And it makes me blue
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| Because although she is my wife
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| She’s my grandmother too
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| Now if my wife is my grandmother
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| Then I’m her grandchild
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| And every time I think of it It nearly drives me wild
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| For now I have become
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| The strangest case you ever saw
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| As husband of my grandma
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| I am my own grandpa |