Из альбома: Elton John and Tim Rice's Aida

Don't come on so cocksure boy
You can't escape your genes
No point in feeling pure boy

Your background intervenes

Listen good and listen straight
You're not the master of your fate
To this you must be reconciled
You'll always be your father's child

At times acclaimed, at times reviled
You'll wind up doing just what I'd have done
Like father, like son
Like father, like son
Oh oh oh ah ah hey hey

Don't assume your vices
Get handed down the line
That a parent's blood suffices
To condemn the child's design

I've done wrong, I can't deny
But at least I know that I
Shouldn't blame that on my stock
This may come as quite a shock

But I'm no chip off any block
I wouldn't wish those words on anyone
Like father, like son
Oh yeah
Like father, like son
Hey hey
Come on

He's lost all sense of reason
And why? Some filthy slave
That is the road called treason
That winds up in the grave

Just like me he's found that flesh
Can excite but will enmesh
Once we rid him of this blight
Once this harlot's out of sight

Then I think he'll see the light
He won't walk back to daddy he will run
Like father, yeah, like son

Oh yeah, oh hey, oh ah
Yeah yeah
Like father, like son
Yeah yeah yeah
Come on sing it now with me
Like father, like son
Father, like son
Like father, like son ...

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