Darryl:

Who's the man? Who's the man?
Who's the soul who had control since this whole thing began?
Who wears the pants?
Who holds the key?
More to the point, who's got a big one swinging down to his knee?
Metaphorically...
Who gets it done when no:one else can?
I ask you! Who's the man?

What makes a king? Defines the boss?
A family crest, a hairy chest, and testes two feet across!
And in the bed: snap crackle pop!
Sure times have changed, but by and large the man still comes out on top.
On a good night...
Who has the goods? Who has the plan? Three guesses!

Now as everyone knows,
when women are near a guy has to say what a girl wants to hear.
But when he's alone though, he shouts loud and clear,
the truth of it all:
that in the final act, God willing,
its the man who gets top billing.

Come on guys, daddy's taking it home!

Darryl and Men:

Who got here first? Huh? That ain't no fib!
Yeah, life was chicken wings and beer till Adam coughed up that rib:
yet though the years and through the grief,
on other's eyes a guy's still measured by the size of his leaf!
So to speak...
just like it was when this big world began:
I tell ya; who's the maaaaaaaaaaaan?!?

Say your world is in trouble, at war,
with tempers aflame;
do you turn to the warm reflections of some sensitive dame,
or run to that hairy ape who wrote the freaking rules of the game?

Who's going to run the goddam show when the shit hits the fan?
I'm talking more beast than beauty,
more Peter than Pan.
You don't believe me, read your bible,
its there in the original plan!

No question: who's the man?

Darryl:

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