A long, long time ago
I can still remember
how my lyrics used to make me smile.

Computer crashed and had no chance
to make you laugh until your pants
had to be changed, to fix it took a while.

But here within Gales of November
it's times like these that I remember
bad news of the shipping
of big ship that was slipping.

I can't remember if I cried
the day Fitzgerald made its slide.
But 37 songs applied
of day... the big ship... died.

So, Hi, hi, Mr. Parody Guy.
Get the rhyming and the timing and the sliming so wry.
And good ol' boys will give you ratings so high
saying, "This'll be great song, I can't lie.
This'll be great song, I can't... lie."

Did you write "The Schnook of Love?"
Got no inspiration from above?
If the Chucky told you so.
And did you write "Outhouse Rock and Roll?"
Can laughter stir your mortal soul
and can you teach me how to "Spell" real slow

Well, you knew I was in love with her
'cause, more pathetic, no men were.
I bought those mobile phones
'cause I dig that Zeta-Jones!

I was a lonely guy, 'bout 29
when I saw that "Zorro" chick so fine
but her guy now withers on the vine.
Not him, my hopes, they've died.

I started singing:
Hi, hi, Mr. Parody Guy.
Get the rhyming and the timing and the sliming so wry.
And good ol' boys will give you ratings so high
saying, "This'll be great song, I can't lie.
This'll be great song, I can't lie."

Now, for 10 years, we have wrote this stuff
and readers cannot get enough
but that's not how it used to be.

When the jester Sherman was the parody king
our funny bones were in a sling
though his voice reflected you and me.

Oh, and while the guys in D.C. town
each proved he was a Capitol clown
they soon wished they'd adjourned
each time Mark Russell returned!

And while his songs we all could pick
along came Weird Al Yankovic
and we laughed until we were sick
from laughter, nearly died.

We were singing:
Hi, hi, Mr. Parody Guy.
Get the rhyming and the timing and the sliming so wry.
And good ol' boys will give you ratings so high
saying, "This'll be great song, I can't lie.
This'll be great song, I can't lie."

Supercalifragilistic?
Song that was not much realistic.
Eight syllables, and way too fast.

So we write some songs about smoking grass.
Our "Seasons In the Sun" don't last
and a pitcher for the Mets still wears a cast.

Now, the music halls were all in bloom
while we spoofed the "Major General" tune.
By Gilbert and Sullivan.
Oh, but they won't give us a hand!

And the wellspring soon was tightly sealed.
The writer's block refused to yield.
A struggle like at Wrigley Field
the day... my ideas died.

They were singing:
Hi, hi, Mr. Parody Guy.
Get the rhyming and the timing and the sliming so wry.
And good ol' boys will give you ratings so high
saying, "This'll be great song, I can't lie.
This'll be great song, I can't lie."

Oh, and there it was, there at my place:
A website with a big white space
demanding that I write again.

So, come on: Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jacko turned out to be more than sick
'cause... newsflash is a parody writer's friend.

Oh, each time Bush came on the stage
my hands were clenched in fists of rage!
Those eight long years of hell
produced my "Fitz" and Barry's "Spell!"

And as the parodies climbed into the night
some from the left, some from the right
I saw everyone laugh with delight
the day... writer's block died.

We were singing:

Hi, hi, Mr. Parody Guy.
Get the rhyming and the timing and the sliming so wry.
And good ol' boys will give you ratings so high
saying, "This'll be great song, I can't lie.
This'll be great song, I can't lie."

I met a girl from State of Blue
and I asked her for some idea new.
But she just smiled and walked away.
And I went down through corridor
where I saw Kirk and Spock before
but Scotty said... laws of physics... would not play.

And in the park, the children screamed.
The Yankees won, A-Rod's redeemed.
So many words were spoken.
Too many ideas! Chokin'!

And the three men that I stole from most
George Dubya, A-Rod, Jay the host?
So much for them, I guess I'm toast.
My ideas all are... fried.

And now I'm singing:

Hi, hi, Mr. Parody Guy.
Get the rhyming and the timing and the sliming so wry.
And good ol' boys will give you ratings so high
saying, "This'll be great song, I can't lie.
This'll be great song, I can't lie."

Yeah, I'm singing:
Hi, hi, Mr. Parody Guy.
Get the rhyming and the timing and the sliming so wry.
And good ol' boys will give you ratings so high
saying, "This'll be great song, I can't lie."