Category Archives: Lyrics

Songs of the American South

Black Lyrics

Sometimes I ponder

That yonder fonder rapper,

That slapper of the fapper

Who use the public crapper

Just writes, night after nights,

Under fluorescent lights

Whatever rhymes, even if that means

He writes more wrongs than rights

‘Cause the whites, they delight

In da light skin they got,

They ain’t thought how we fought

‘Cause our families were caught

And sold in days of old for a handful of gold.

Dig it?

——————————————————–

White Lyrics

Hey baby, I’m thinkin’

That since we’ve been drinkin’

And we got us a truck

Let’s roll up a joint

And drive to make-out point

And shoot us a deer or a duck!

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Lyrics, Poems

In Case You’d Forgotten

Back in the Western USA

In 1800 somethin’

A couple cowboys realized

Their hearts, they were a thumpin’.

The cowboys had been life long friends

And though they both were male

They rode to Brokeback Mountain

And they gave up on the trail.

Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!

Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!

We used to have some cowboys

To protect our town from raids,

But now we have to check

Our cowboy guardians for AIDS!

They use to be quick to the draw

But now they have more fun

With the sheathing than the drawing

Of their aforementioned gun!

Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!

Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!

One cowboy found his saddle’s

Grown less comfortable with time. He

Found this was the case

Unless their romance they would stymie.

But the cowboys needed horses

Like they found they needed lasses

And they replaced their ponies

With one another’s (whoaaa!)

Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!

Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!

Yodel

Oodle

Yodel

Adel

Odel

Soooooooo…

Doooooooo…

Myyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

Leave a comment

Filed under Lyrics, Poems, Songs

You Didn’t Eat Your Broccoli, Thus…

Satan wants to eat your soul for breakfast.

Yeah, that’s a thing that Satan wants to do.

His mouth’s already watering

At the prospect of slaughtering

That tasty human spirit that is you!

Satan wants to eat your soul for breakfast.

I heard him to his Mrs. Satan say

“Hey, why don’t you and me go

“Have some eggs and Human Ego

“As a nutritious snack to start the day!”

Satan has a hunch

That it’s too soon for lunch

And, by that logic, also too soon for dinner.

But they don’t sleep-in in Hell

And to start his day off well

You are the perfect portion size of sinner!

(Everybody)!

Satan wants to eat your soul for breakfast.

He wants to fill his belly with your Id.

I hope you’ve read your Dante

‘Cause you’re what Satan wants. Hey!

That’s what you get for being a naughty kid!

Leave a comment

Filed under Lyrics, Poems

One More Time (Anatomy Of Pop)

I met you, romantic prospect,

At a facility frequented by listeners of this genre.

It was unrealistically perfect

To look upon ya.

Then I sang about nothing!

Then I sang the same nothing!

Then the same nothing again

One more time!

I mentioned your physical appearance

But also a personal detail

To convince listeners of this genre

That you, romantic prospect, are real.

Then I sang about nothing!

Then the exact same nothing!

Then a slightly lengthened version of the same nothing

(With backup singers)

One more time!

Then I sang again about nothing!

(Because choruses, yo)

Then again about nothing!

(Because choruses bro)

One more time about nothing!

(Yay radio…)

One more time!

Fade and repeat ad infinitum…

Leave a comment

Filed under Lyrics, Poems

The Placelandian National Anthem

Placelandia! We celebrate

The nation that is not a state,

The place where politicians come to die!

Where residents have common sense

And our plan for national defense

Is not to be a dick to folks nearby.

Placelandia! We celebrate

Our lack (so far) of Watergate

Or other nasty scandals of that kind.

Where citizens think differently

And something backs our currency;

A country built with happiness in mind.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

A nation that can safely be ignored.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Where drama-seeking tourists will be bored.

Placelandia! We celebrate

That here nice guys can get a date

And nobody is told they must comply.

Where everybody owns a Glock

And Fox exec Rupert Murdoch

Would not have had to cancel Firefly.

Placelandia! We celebrate

A place mostly devoid of hate,

Where legs just shave themselves if given time.

We hope you have enjoyed this song

And pop stars didn’t sing too long

Before the very easy ending rhyme.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

It’s a pretty snazzy kinda joint.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Okay, okay, okay! We get the point!

Leave a comment

Filed under Lyrics, Poems, Songs

I Tried To Write A Blues Song…

If the fact that night’s black

Somehow strikes you as racist,

If you’ve slacked off on the lotion

And your skin has a cray cyst,

If you drink green smoothies

And fly “coexist” kites

You may not have the blues

But you’ve sure got the whites.

When your three-year-old son

Tells you “Daddy, I’m gay”

And your instagram buddies

Say “Hashtag-OMG-yay!”

If you’re upset you don’t need

To fight for your rights

Then I’m sorry my friend

But you may have the whites.

If Samuel L. Jackson’s

Your “number one bro,”

You think its fine to say “moron”

But not to call someone “slow,”

If you think the dragon’s

Misunderstood by the knights

Then give your friends sunglasses

‘Cause you’ve got the whites.

But if you’ve got the whites

There’s no need to be sad.

It’s not your fault your existence

Makes everything bad.

One day we won’t judge people

Based on sex, race, or fat…

If only all the fat rich white males

Could understand that!

2 Comments

Filed under Lyrics, Poems

Aria for Happy Fools and Background Noise

Our lives are like a song

In a language we don’t know.

Our feet tap to the beat of the world

When we feel that special flow.

It starts out as a whisper

And builds into the cry

Of a baby with the will to sing

But no knowledge how or why.

It may turn many corners.

It changes every verse.

The song always gets better

Even if it may sound worse.

Some songs will stop too suddenly

And some go on too long.

Since we don’t know what we’re singing

Why care if something’s wrong?

You can sing however’s comfortable.

When all is said and sung

I hope I’m singing nonsense

‘Til I get my iron lung!

Leave a comment

Filed under Lyrics, Poems