|
|
(Might As Well Be) Writin' For The Sun
(To the tune of (Might As Well Be) Walkin' on the Sun by Smashmouth)
lyrics by Elden Carnahan
Performed at the 2003 Flushie Awards
I had a joke about the Russians going broke,
And once a haiku filled with bitter irony,
And then a song about the Wizards and some lizards,
Hey, and then there was this gag 'bout some spies in our embassy,
Like some of you, an ordinary outlook I lacked,
I shoveled in the points, and old Gracie, she kept track
The Invitay shnull's an obsession for the nerdy and meek,
If ya got the goods, the Czar will put it in the paper each week
Chorus
So don't delay, act now, the Year is ru-unnin' out,
You know, by e-mail or snail, the deadline's 8 days away,
And if you're clever, there's T-shirts or whatever,
But if Chris Doyle is on, you might as well be writing for the Sun.
For more than 10 or so years, we've scandalized the old folks
With Viagra and Biafra and chlamydia jokes,
And we poked-fun-at-the church and risked the hellfire,
Just-zingin' and zappin' and good taste never happened,
And some did cap-tions, some-did-dactyls, Some did quatrains
Aand some did "Ask Backwards" and Fought back 'gainst Ann Landers,
And our kids were Loser-chicks and Loser-pricks,
But then Chris Doyle came in smashin' back in Week Sevny-Six.
Chorus
So don't delay, act now, the Year is ru-unnin' out,
You know, by e-mail or snail, the deadline's 8 days away,
And if you're clever, there's T-shirts or whatever,
But if Chris Doyle is on, you might as well be writing for the Sun.
Because of Chris, now our Maya's handkerchief is soaked,
With her tears because her lifetime rank has been revoked,
And Stephen's broke up and choked up, Sue Lin has lost her focus,
Mr. Witte can't perform his former hocus-pocus,
And Ma Hart falls back as her dynasty is ransacked,
From Forsyth MO, our neighborhood is under attack,
Put away the crack-whore jokes before they send you away,
We need to find some real employment now before it's too la-ate.
Chorus
So don't delay, act now, the Year is ru-unnin' out,
You know, by e-mail or snail, the deadline's 8 days away,
And if you're clever, there's T-shirts or whatever,
But if Chris Doyle is on, you might as well be writing for the Sun.
Just go help Robert Levey with his puns,
Or come in second with a hundred-one,
Or tell the Czar, like Beland, that you're done,
You might as well be writing for the Sun.
|