I once knew a man from Australia
In full ‘Crocodile Dundee’ regalia …
.
The man from Nantucket missed
Being on my bucket list
But stereotypes will never fail ya.
As copied shamelessly by these no-talent guys.
♪
This happened once before
Some guys came to your door
F.B.I.
They said it wasn’t flu
And they saw you breathe through
Your facemask
.
We nearly died!
We nearly died!
‘Cause you coughed in your hand
Wuhan was a plan
In your face
.
I worked by telephone
And sanitized my home
For a lie
They said it was all true
But I saw it peak through
Flu season
.
Noro Plight
Noro Plight…
♪
.
B-side: “Emu Loser”
I’ve been dethroned as a wise-ass lyricist. I doff my hat to our very own wordsmith, Bob B. Feel free to steal it, Weird Al:
Biden [singing]:
🎵
Third boxcar, who knows where
Destination Delaware
Old, worn out brain and shoes
I was bought with union dues
Pelosi stabbed me, as I have found
Obama too, so I just wander around
I’m a man who’s mean and empty
I’ve been dethroned
I know every engineer on every train
All of their children, and all of their names
And every story is locked in my head
Even Jill knows that, at long last, that I’m brain-dead
I sing, Biden for sale or rent
Got no power, got no sense
No core, no point, you see
I ain’t got integrity
Ah, but, two hours ’til hard lid comes
Buys twelve hours of freedom from those bums
I’m a man who’s mean and empty
I’ve been dethroned!
🎵
🎵
What would you think if too right makes a wrong?
Would you stand behind a girl five-foot-three?
Show me your ear and I’ll zing it along
Because nobody f***s with a B.
Oh, get these guys with a little help from the feds . . .
Yes, abet Biden with a little help from the feds . . .
Gonna try with a little help from the feds . . .
DNI, anybody?
We need some bloody no-name
FBI, anybody?
We need somebody to blame
🎵
.
B side: Fix In, A-Hole
(I’m not really serious about the plagiarism.)
Biden: “I know I’m not a young man, I don’t walk as easy or speak as smoothly or debate as well as I used to. But I know what I do know. I know how to tell the truth. I know right from wrong and I know how to do this job.”
Dr. Jill looked me over
And I guess she thought
I was all right
All right in a sort of a limited way
For an off-night
I said, “Don’t I know you
From the cinema geographer’s party?”
She said, “Who am I
To go against your mind?”
I know what I know
I’ve said what I said
We come and we go
That’s — you know — the thing — I keep
In the back of my head
She said, “There’s something about you
That really reminds me of money,”
She is the kind of girl
Who could say things that
Weren’t that funny
I said, “What does that mean
I really remind you of Monday?”
She said, “Who am I
To scoff at ten percent?”
I know what I know
I’ve said what I said
We come and we go
It’s like I got whacked
In the back of my head
She moved so easily
All my moves were uncertain
I said, “Aren’t you the woman
Who was recently wearing a curtain?”
She said, “Don’t you know me
From the babysitter slumber party?”
I said, “Who am I?
Who blew out my Depends?”
I know what I know
I’ve said what I said
Trunalimunumaprzure
That’s — you know — the thing — I keep
In the back of my head.
Keep an eye on the Biden crowd
Because you’ll never hear what they don’t say out loud
If you get your news from Maureen Dowd —
Or, rather, Mika — you can stand proud.
.
Keep your ear down on the ground
And you will never hear a sound
Except the liberals playing around
With all the Sanders they can pound.
.
Keep your finger on the pulse
Of the vain, who may convulse
Keep your nose to the grindstone
Smell Hell — you’ll work, but will not own.
Based on “Chains”
(originally by The Cookies)
(which are now on your computer)
🎵
Change: crybabies got me locked up for “change”
And it ain’t the kind that you can see
Whoa–oh, this gang above got a hold on me, yeah
Change, well I can’t break away from this change
Can’t drive around, ’cause I’m not free
Whoa–oh, this change-lovin’ gov won’t let me be, yeah
I wanna tell you, petty babies
I’ll pay the fine
I like to barbecue
But, darn it, I’m imprisoned by this…
Change, crybabies got me locked up in change
And it ain’t the kind that you can see
Oh, oh, this iron glove got a hold on me
Please believe me when I tell you
It beats an ice sheet
I’d just dismiss them
But I can’t break away from all of this…
Change, crybabies taking all of my change
And it ain’t the kind of tax that you can see
Whoa–oh, this change-lovin’ gov got a hold on me, yeah
Change; change of gov…
🎵
To adapt a Seinfeld phrase, we’ve got so much song-mocking hand that we’re coming out of our gloves!
Thanks to Kinda Sorta Bob B-like Bot:
Where can you see a dunder
Scam the world for plunder,
Sell secret technology,
And make those Chinese Commie dreams all come true?
On the land or on the sea
Make use of the Big Lie
Play with words and trip, live.
Boost Hunter, for a fee
Just pick up the Slimline
Then sit off on the sideline
When your son and others meet[Chorus]
With young Navy
Yes, you can bilk the Red Chinese
With young Navy
Yes, you can transfer funds at ease
With young Navy
He’ll fool the people ‘bout this jam
With young Navy, through young Navy
Can’t ever track the latest scamShe’s a Biden
Fin’lly confess the obvious fact
Yes, a Biden!
There’s one less thing they can attack
We’re all Bidens,
Con people with fake money trails
‘Cause we’re Bidens, yes, we’re Bidens, sleazy Bidens…
Then there’s a lot of dancing. No video available.
Per Gumbeaux:
🎵
Now in the streets, there is violence
Trump’s successes must be undone
The media does its brainwashing
Climate change not the fault of the sun, oh no
When you go rock down to Electric Avenue
And then the car explodes into fire.
Oh, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
You’ll never have to change a flat tire.
🎵
Gordon Bud Lightfoot:
♪
If you could redefine love, What a tale the courts could tell. Just ban those old-time bakeries As opposed to them wishing well. In a public park, or a fortune island, & "Diana" Jones upon the screen I know that whip's for me. And we will never be set free As long as this leads to places you can't see. If I could heal your mind, love, What a fail your thoughts could tell. Just like those tuck-back novelties, The kind that Target sells. When you reach the party whence the hard-ons come, Then the Neroes will be free -- United Neroes, don't you see? And you won't read about it being all a fake Because defending's just too hard to take! I'd walk away like a movie star In a "childrens' three-way" script. Absolutely number two. A new drag queen to play the scene Of bringing Indiana Jones to heel But for now love, let's be real; I never thought it could be this gay And I've got to say that I just don't get it. I don't know where we went wrong, But the country's gone And we just can't get it back.
♪
Per Kinda Sorta Bob B-like Bot:
Want some Ukraine in your NATO?
China in your sea?
What’s all these crazy questions you’re askin’ me?
This is the craziest conference that could ever be
Get me outta here ’cause I think I wanna pee
My handlers told me not to come
My handlers told me not to come
“That ain’t no way to start your run, no” (uh-uh!)
Open up that window, let me get outta this here room
I think it’s almost Wapner time, I just know I gotta zoom
And that staircase I see comin’ ’bout scares me half to death
Get me to the lid now, sucker, let me catch my breath
My handlers told me not to come
My handlers told me not to come
“That ain’t no way to have fun, son”
“That ain’t the way to have fun, son” they said
The commentators blastin’, someone’s knockin’ at the door
It’s only my son Hunter, he’s snortin’ off the floor
I seen so many things I ain’t never seen before
I don’t know what it is, I don’t wanna see no more
My handlers told me not to come
My handlers told me not to come
They said, “That ain’t no way to look smart, son”
“That ain’t the way to look sharp, no”
Jill she told me, Jill she told me
Jill she told me, told me, told me
Jill told me, told me, ooh, yeah, yeah
Jill told me I must run
Jill she told me, Jill she told me
Ain’t that the truth
“I need four years to have fun, Joe”
“I need four years to have fun…”
… and Phony Joe’s white.
Courtesy of our own Kinda Sorta Bob B-like Bot:
Kinda sorta based on “Pork Salad Annie” by Tony Joe White
A tour de farce:
Down in California
Where the state attorneys grow so mean
There lived a girl that I swear to the world
Made the wokest DAs look tameWord Salad Kamie, Word Salad Kamie
Everybody said it was a shame
Willie Brown got her work that needed no brain.
A mean vacuous woman, huhNow, every day ‘fore media time
She’d go down by the bus yard
And whip up a mess o’ word salad
And carry it home in a tote sackWord Salad Kamie
Spokes-holes protect your fanny, lie, spin, drop
Everybody said it was a shame
She had woke ideas that were just insane.
A wretched, spiteful, Venn diagram totin’ woman, he-he
Lord, have mercy, made a mess of it
HuhThe Prez was lazy and no count
Claimed he had some bad luck
All her staffers were fit for
Was bailin’ real quick out of her cackle rangeWord Salad Kamie
No lie can help you Kamie, boo-hoo
Everybody said it was a shame
Biden gave such a boost to a lame brain…
(Extra credit for not going for the obvious rhyme in the second-to-last verse.)