A flight across the puddle; we’ve a problem that’ll slow us up
A beardy fellow, lookin’ shifty, says he wants to blow us up
The shoes aren’t duds, an’ go bang; then I note the flight’s hysterical
He’d paradise an’ bonin’ due; an order, from one clerical

The pilot an’ the cabin crew have fainted; we can’t stimulate
I understand the functions; they look simple; I could simulate
I’m not so good at the steerin’; I’m tearing out a lot o’ hair
I’ve tried a lot o’ things, for I’m the one that leads: a lot o’ flair

(A warnin’ bell, it rings, an’ I’m the one that heeds: a lot o’ care)
(The bomber says, “It stings”, for he’s the one that bleeds; he’s gotta swear)
(Now bits are off the wings; I think we’re done; it seems we haven’t got a prayer)

I’m very good when in a jam: a stiffer lip; I’m landin’ it
I hit the “overshot it” trap; I’m glad that there is sand in it
It’s down, but battered; blew the tyres; broken wing that’s flappy now
The baddy’s feet are missin’; I should bet he’s feelin’ crappy now

(We’re down, but shattered; “phew”: the flyers; joke an’ sing: they’re happy now)
(The ladies greet with kissin’: I should get; appealin’ *chappie now)

-----

I’m in a yellow taxi cab; it’s awful duff; has sticky brakes
It must be hard to steer it: driver’s hit a friend of Ricki Lake’s
He’s now hit Woody Allen, who’s the tops in comedy craziness
I ought to change my cab, but I’m a-sufferin’ from laziness

I…can tell the cabbie’s lost the plot: he’s full of rage, and rambling
He’s bashed a mounted lawman; now the horse can’t do his ambling
The guy’s a nut; I’ve seen enough; this dude is less than sensible
He’s runnin’ over stars; the law is clear: it’s reprehensible

(He’s runnin’ over stars; Kirk D: a tear; it’s reprehensible)
(He’s runnin’ over stars; Lou Reed: a tear; it’s reprehensible)
(He’s runnin’ over stars; T Cruise: a cheer; I doubt it’s reprehensible)

The guy has quite a squashin’ skill; this cabbie’s into splattin’ ‘em
He’s chasin’ Caan and Arkin; they’ll be flat, an’ ‘ave no chat in ‘em
The road, now battered; ev’ry sign felled; Fonda is one layin’ limp
The cabbie’s on the beer; oh: *pissed a trickle on the frayin’ *gimp

(He’s mowed, an’ shattered, Jerry Seinfeld; yonder is one preyin’ pimp)
(The cabbie’s Rob De Niro; Mister Bickle is no prayin’ wimp)

-----

I shout, “For God sake, let me out”, on Madison, at *K an’ D
The guy can’t quell his spite; Mariah Carey’s next for A and E
This nut can see the ghosties of dead Yorkers; some he’s swearin’ at
He’s runnin’ down Houdini; then, at me, it’s “Who you starin’ at?”

Well, he’s jus’ squashed Count Basie, an’ Lee Marvin he’s now manglin’
He sees odd fruit on poplars: could be Billie who’s there, danglin’
Mae West jus’ took a battering; a very mental strategy
He’s seen another copper on a horse; he’s gonna splat a gee

(He’s seen another copper on the course; he’s gonna splat a he)
(He’s seen a mother shopper on the *sauce; he’s gonna splat a she)
(He’s been an’ got the chopper, an’ of course he’s gonna hack an’ splatter me)

Now he’s hittin’ Tony Curtis, who is lucky to be blubbery
It only makes him bounce, an’ so he’s landing in the shrubbery
He’s glad he’s fatter; size is maxi; fearin’ he’ll be hobblin’
His wig is in a puddle, an’ his gut is loose an’ wobblin’

(He’s mad; will batter guys with taxi; steerin’, I’ve been *nobblin’)
(His zig is in a muddle, for a nut is loose an’ wobblin’)