Bette Midler - Otto Tittsling Lyrics
This next story is a true story. it concerns to of my favorite subjects: industrial theft . . . and-a t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the story . . . the inventor of the modern foundationEnt that we women wear today was a german scientist and opera lover by the name of otto titsling! this is a true story. his name was otto titsling. what happened to otto titsling shouldnt happeA schnauzer. its a very sad story. I feel I have to share it with you.Otto titsling, inventor and crout,Had nothing to get very worked up about.His inventions were failures, his future seemed bleak.He fled to the opera at least twice a week.One night at the opera he saw an aidaWhos t-ts were so big they would often impede her.Bug-eyed he watched her fall into the pit,Done in by the weight of those terrible t-ts.Oh, my god! there she blows!Aerodynamically this ***** was a mess.Otto eye-balled the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,And he suddenly felt the fire or inspirationFlood his soul. he knew what he had to do!He ran back to his workshopWhere he futzed and futzed and futzed.For otto titsling had found his quest:To lift and mold the female breast;To point the small ones to the sky;To keep the big ones high and dry!Every night hed sweat and snortSearching for the right support.He tried some string and paper clips.Hey! he even tried his own two lips!Well, he stiched and he slavedAnd he slaved and he stitchedUntil finally one night, in the wee hours of morning,Otto arose from his workbench triumphant.Yes! he had invented the worlds firstOver-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. hooray!Exhausted but ecstatic he ranDown the street to the divas houseBearing the prototype in his hot little hand.Now, the diva did not want to try the darn thing on.But, after many initial misgivings,She finally did.And the sigh of relief that issued forthFrom the divas mouthWas so loud that it was mistaken by someTo be the early onset of the seraken windsWhich would often roll through the schwarzwaldWith a vengance!Ahhhhh-i!But little did otto know,At the moment of his greatest triumph,Lurking under the divas bedWas none other than the very worstOf the french patentees,Phillip debrassiere.And phil was watching the sceneWith a great deal of interest!Later that night, while our broom hilda slept,Into the wardrobe phillip softly crept.He fumbled through knickers and corsets galore,til he found ottos titsling and he ran out the door.Crying, oh, my god! what joy! what bliss!Im gonna make me a million from this!Every woman in the world will wanna buy one.I can have all the goods manufactures in taiwan.Oh, thank you!The result of this swindle is pointedly clear:Do you buy a titsling or do you buy a brassiere?
