They tell me there's a story, of the day that I was born.
It's related to the reason, that I, now, feel so forlorn.
Just a brand-new baby boy, all bundled up in blue.
When my parents first looked at me, they both said, "Oh, It's you!"

All my life I've had this problem. It was terrible in school.
'Seems that all the other children, forgot the golden-rule.
And even all my teachers; they forgot about it too.
'Cause, every morning I was greeted with, a hearty - "Oh, It's you!"

The doctor says I have a complex. There's nothing he can do.
A psychological disorder, with a mental-age of two.
He's never had a patient like me. He's confused as what to do.
And when I walk into his office, he begins with, "Oh, It's you!"

I've always tried to grin and bear it, though it happens every day.
It's tough to get up in the morning, knowing what the world will say.
On all the jobs I've ever held, and I've been fired from quite a few,
I've had to put up with a boss, who starts each day with, "Oh, It's you!"

The other night when I was dreaming, I went to Heaven when I died.
As I approached those pearly gates, I couldn't wait to get inside.
I could hear the angels singing, with Heaven's host as I stepped through.
Then suddenly, a silence fell - - - and they all said, "Oh, It's you!"

So the moral of the story is: If you'd like to lose a friend,
You don't have to call him nasty names, to make that friendship end.
Just wait until he comes around, it only takes a time or two.
As he walks up with a big old smile, say calmly, "Oh, It's you!"