-> "A Year Unalike"
Original Song Title:
"Sweet Betsy From Pike"
John A Stone (American Traditional)
Parody Song Title:
"A Year Unalike"
You must wear a mask in case someone might sneeze
But read the fine print, it won't stop the disease
Soon they will tell you to cover your rump
And blame the whole screw up on President Trump
Singing "Here a lie, there a line, all's a lie, heh"!
I've turned back the clock, now I'm like Jesse James
His time and mine are too close to the same
He robbed a bank and lived live on the run
We both wear a mask and we carry a gun
Singin' "Stick 'em up, stick 'em up, stick 'em up, heh"!
We don't trust the doctors and we don't trust the Fed
Or anything someone in Congress has said
I'd swallow a bottle of Lysol myself
But there's none to be had on the grocery store shelf
Takin' chloroquine, chloroquine, chloroquin, NOT!
Can't go to museums to look at the art
In church we must pray at least six feet apart
The only place blockbuster movies are seen
In the palm of your hand on a postage stamp screen
Crying "Oscar buzz, Oscar buzz, Oscar buzz off"
A huge baseball park where nobody may sit
The catcher performs with a sanitized mitt
The infield will soon be a weed-covered lawn
Now that the vendors and ground crew are gone
Asking, "Take me out, take me out, take me out, when?"
Revenues down and the salaries gigantic
NFL owners becoming quite frantic
Who'll cheer the touchdowns of Patrick Mahomes?
Computer created invisible clones?
Chanting, "Tomahawk, tomahawk, tomahawk chop"
Anatomy lesson, I know it's correct
A man cannot breathe with a knee on his neck
The death of George Floyd's a convenient excuse
To throw rocks at cops and to pilfer some shoes
Singing, "BLM, BLM, BLM, Pay"!
Our vaccine experiment can't do no harm
And you'll get a microchip there in your arm
We'll know where you are 'til the day you're deceased
Oh, and please do not call it "The Mark of the Beast"
Singing, "Hut two three, hut two three, hut two three four"
This all will be over, or so I have heard
If we vote for Joe Biden on November third
The ballots of dead men will rescue us all
'Til the regular flu season starts in the fall
Singing, "Guns, God, and Guts made us great, now good-bye".
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