Dental Care piano leadsheet with chords

I brush my teeth and look in the mirror,

as and laugh out loud as I'm beaming from ear to ear.

I'd rather pick flowers

instead of fights,

and and rather than flaunt my style,

fit, I'd flash you a smile of clean,

pearly whites.

I've been to the dentist a thousand times,

so I know the drill:

I smooth my hair, sit back in the chair,

but somehow I still get the chills.

"Have a seat," he says pleasantly,

ror,

as he shakes my hand

as and practic'lly laughs at me.

"Open nice and wide," ers he says,

peering and with a he says,

"Don't have a fit, this'll pinch a bit,"

as he not to grin.

I've been to the dentist a thousand times,

so I know the drill:

I smooth my hair, sit back in the chair,

but somehow I still get the chills.

When hygienists leave on long vacations,

that's when dentists scream and lose their "patients."

Talking only brings the toothaches on,

because I say the stupidest things.

So if my resolve goes south,

I'll swallow my pride with an asp'rin and shut my mouth.

Golf and alcohol don't mix, and that's why I don't drink and drive,

because, good grief, I'd knock out my teeth and have to kiss my smile goodbye.

I've been to the dentist a thousand times,

so I know the drill:

I smooth my hair, sit back in the chair,

but somehow I still get the chills.