Dean the richest man, was a bright happy soul,
With a lather jacket and 67' impala, and two eyes made of imeral.
Dean the richest man, is a myth, they say.
He was made of skin, but the demons know he came to life one day.
There must have been some magic in that old angel they sall,
For when he placed hand on his head, he began to dance around!
Oh, dean, the richest man, was alive as he could be;
and the readers say he could fight and hunt,
just the same as you and me.
Thumpety thump, thump, thumpety thump, thump,
look at Dean go.
Thumpety thump, thump, thumpety thump, thump,
over the hills of snow.
Dean the richest man, knew the sun was hot that day,
so he said, "Let's run, and we'll have some fun now, before I die agian."
Down to the village, with a knife in his hand,
Running here and there, all around the square,
sayin', "where is lucfier."
He led them down the streets of town, right to the meg;
and only paused a moment, when he heard her holler, "Stop!"
For Sam the brother, had to hurry on his way,
But he waved goodbye, sayin' "Don't cry, I'll be back again some day."