Well, my daddy left home when I had my bris,
And he didn’t leave much to me and Sis
Just this old copy of Partisan Review.
And I never blamed him ‘cause he went to shul
But the thing he did that was so uncool
Was before he left he went and named me (((Jew)))
Well he must’ve thought that it was quite a joke
And it pissed off all the herrenvolk
Made me wish that I could be Hindu.
Some gal would troll me with a nasty tweet
Some guy would show up in a big white sheet
I tell you, life ain’t easy for a boy named (((Jew))).
Well I pretty much stayed out of jail
Which didn’t hurt me getting into Yale
And I spent my junior year in Istanbul.
And I got me a job as a global banker
Corporate lawyer and a network anchor
And sent my kids to a fancy private school.
But I made me a vow to my mom and aunts
That I’d search the Chinese restaurants
From end to end on Flatbush Avenue
And I’d check the letters to the New York Times
And the Fairway Market checkout lines
Until I found the man who named me (((Jew))).
At a cocktail party for the DNC
–Or maybe a brunch for Hillary—
And I had a glass of some good microbrew
In a cashmere jacket of a subdued plaid
With a plate of hors d’oeuvres was my own sweet dad
And I said, My name is (((Jew)))! Now I’m gonna sue!
Jerry, Jerry, Jerry. How do you do it.?
I dunno. The real question is, why do I do it?