Well I guess this songnIs a mixturenOf my mother's witnAnd my father's tempernnWell you got your daddy's skinnMe, well I got nothingnBut a pair of ugly feetnThat I'm behind in, yeahnThat I'm behind innnAnd everything I donI'm a spitting image of younAnd everything I donI remind myself of you, yeahnI remind myself of younnOne day my father will get his temper under controlnBy then he'll be old and it won't matter any morenIt's gonna be so hard watching him grow oldnOh but if I can't, well then honey we can'tnMove back to Seattlen'Cuz I'll have to take care of himnnEverything I donI'm a spitting image of younAnd everything I donI remind myself of you, yeahnI remindnEverything I do (Everything I do)nI'm a spitting image of you (I'm a spitting image of you)nYeah, and everything I do (Yeah, and everything I do)nI remind myself of you (I remind myself of you)nYeah (yeah)nEverything I do (Everything I do)nI'm a spitting image of you (I'm a spitting image of you)nEverything I do (Everything I do)nI remind myself of you (I remind myself of you)nYeah (Yeah, myself of you)nI remind myself of younnDad, I know I love younI know I love younI donOh dad, I know I love younI really love younI do