Oh, my eyes have dark circles
'cause I have writer's block.
I'd ask another parodist
but he'd say, "Oh, you should talk!"
And the ladies treat me kindly
and furnish me with tapes.
But the songs on them just do not
provide me no escapes.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

Well, Sherman, he's in the alley
with his glasses rimmed with horn
speaking to Mark Russell
who heaps political scorn.
And I would send a message
to learn from how they talked.
But Allen's no longer with us
and on tour, Mark is locked.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

Merry tried to tell me
to disbelieve other women's lines.
She said Angelina Jolie
would drink up my blood like wine.
And I said, "Oh, I didn't know that.
But I agree, she'd break my bones.
And so would Jessica Alba.
Don't get me started on Zeta-Jones."
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

Schlesinger died last week
but historians don't bring laughs.
Unless, of course, the parody
is another one of Spaff's.
And me, I expected it to happen.
I knew I'd lost control
when I wrote one about Miss Lucy Liu
and made fun of some of her roles.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

Now, Dick Cheney came down here
showing everyone his gun
handing out free tickets
to the birth of his grandson.
And me, I nearly got busted
and he really had a fit
when I pointed out on gay rights
the man's a hypocrite.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

Now, the preacher looked so baffled
when I asked him why he dressed
with big-bucks contributions
stapled to his chest.
But he cursed me when I proved it to him
then I whispered, "You're festooned
but don't lie and say you're mimicking
a crucifixtion's wounds."
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

Now, the Rain Man counted up my
ideas in my trash bin.
He's really quite the genius
but can't fix the mess I'm in.
You see, the metaphors, I mixed them
and the words poured from my mind.
My lyrics just get sillier
and I have no sense of rhyme.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

Now, Arwen says come see her
in her Rocky Mount abode
where I can watch her waltz for free
and eat pie a la mode.
And I say, "Aw, come on now.
You must know whose voice I heed!"
And she says, "That Welsh girl just knows what you want
but I know what you need!"
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

Now, the schmucks lay on that street
Pennsylvania Avenue.
They all fall there so perfectly
just like New York Mets do.
And here I sit so patiently
and I still have to wait
but with a new President comes
my Stadium falling in oh-eight.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end
to be stuck at my computer with the writer's block again?

(instrumental close)