Song Parodies & Satires
Leigh Harrison / Musician
Leigh Harrison is not just a poet and songwriter, but a long-time satirist and parodist. Her song parodies were featured on the early cable TV show, "If I Can't Dance, You Can Keep Your Revolution" (also known as "The Coca Crystal Show") that was popular for many years on Manhattan Cable in the 1970s - 1990s in NYC. One of her parodies, entitled "Livid at the GSA," a take-off on "Livin' in the USA" -- was a parody of the then
government's General Services Administration.
Of course, Leigh's early years were hugely influenced by the great satirists of the past -- in literature, by Jonathan Swift (author of "Gulliver's Travels") and in music by the great song parodiests, Allan Sherman, Tom Lehrer, "Weird" Al Yankovich, and the genius writers of Mad Magazine.
Below is a small sampling of some of her various take-offs and song parodies -- many merely humorous version of songs by some of her favorite songwriters, including John Fogerty, Arlo Guthrie, and Lerner & Loewe.
BATHROOM ON THE RIGHT
(to the tune of "Bad Moon Rising"
by John Fogerty)
We need a bathroom – no surprise here!
Not if you drank seven beers!
You’d be quakin’ and a-frightened
You’d want a potty very near
REFRAIN:
Won’t go out tonight
The outhouse got no light
But there’s a bathroom on the right
That guy drank too much tequila
That gal puked in the saloon
I fear toilets overflowin’
I heard the plumbin’ just got ruined
Repeat REFRAIN
Instrumental verse
Hope you got your shit together
And don’t pee in the jimsonweed
Come inside, we’ll all go together
There’s some comic books that we can read
Repeat REFRAIN (2x)
(c.) Lyric by Leigh Harrison, 2019
HONEYDEW
(to the tune of “Honey Pie” by
John Lennon & Paul McCartney)
Honeydew, you are surely nutritious
Juicy and so delicious
When the meal is through
Honeydew, you are sweeter than salad
All the other fruit’s pallid
When compared to you
BRIDGE:
Some might want a strawberry,
a peach or plum
Apple, kiwi, or banana,
but that’s dumb – as they come
Honeydew, now my waistline is slimming
While the seeds, I am skimming,
From your tasty green bowl
Lyric: (c.) Leigh Harrison, 2007
SUPPERTIME
(to the tune of “Summertime” by
George Gershwin & DuBose Hayward
Suppertime …
and your dinner is ready
Fish been broilin’ …
mashed potatoes piled high
Your mama’s tired …
she’s been cookin’ all day now
So eat up, sweet baby …
but save room for pecan pie
One of these evenings …
you’re gonna find you’re still hungry
You’re gonna want shrimp,
corn bread, peas, or stir fry
Until that meal, tho’ …
just keep eatin’ and munchin’
Maybe start a new diet …
by and by ….
Lyric: (c.) Leigh Harrison, 2018
I CAN’T SHOP AT THE MALL ANYMORE
(to the tune of On The Street Where You Live"
by Alan Jay Lerner & Frederick Loewe)
I have often schlepped through those doors before
But I used my credit cards at all these stores before
All at once am I – eighty dollars shy
I can’t shop at the mall anymore
Are there sales galore? “Buy one, get one free”?!?
It won’t matter, ‘cause I haven’t got a dime, you see
No filet mignon – all the money’s gone
I can’t shop at the mall anymore
But, ooooh! The empowering feeling
Before – our economy dived!
Before, the bubble was bursting
Back when our pension funds, and housing market thrived!
Now we scrimp and save, no more Starbucks, kid!
On account-a what the Fed and all the Ponzi’s did
Now I find that I – feel like I could cry
I can’t shop at the mall anymore
But ooooh! That wonderful feeling
When we all had money in the bank!
Before stocks took a nose-dive
And every – mutual fund you once were holding – tanked!
People tighten belts – that’s not hard to do
It’s that picking through the garbage that I really rue
I know things will change – still, I’m quite deranged
I can’t shop at the mall anymore
I can’t shop at the mall anymore
lyric: (c.) Leigh Harrison, 2009 (when the economy really was that bad!)
MALICE'S RESTAURANT
(to the tune of “Alice's Restaurant” by Arlo Guthrie)
You can get the abuse you want at Malice's restaurant
See them snicker and hear them taunt at Malice's Restaurant
Just walk right in, with your shame and doubt
They'll be heaping scorn on you till you walk out
You can get the abuse you want at Malice's Restaurant
This is a song called "Malice's Restaurant" but it's not actually about Malice -- or his restaurant -- but it is about that time, one year on Groundhog Day, when we wuz a-a-all goin' out to see if he stuck his head above the ground -- that is, the groundhog, not Malice -- or his restaurant, and there wuz the whole usual gang, which is ta say, me an' my posse, which basically consisted of ol' Nervous Ned, an' Depressed Fred an' Lonesome Larry, and Pillbox Annie. They called her Pillbox Annie on account-a her name was Annie an' she always walked around with a pillbox -- an' not jus' some ord-in-ary pillbox, but a pillbox filled with the biggest bunch of beads you ever saw, that she liked to string together, an' she'd make 'em inta little bracelets an' necklaces an' earrings for her girl-friends, and sometimes for her boyfriends, too, like Hopeless Henry and Hapless Hank and Helpless Herman and Pathetic Pedro -- except Hapless Hank wasn't there because he was in Des Moines, Iowa, having a medical procedure that I just wouldn't care to talk about in public, and Helpless Herman wasn't there, neither, on account-a he wuz returnin' a copy of Moby Dick to the li-berry that he had borrowed twenty-two years earlier for a book report, 'cept he never wrote the book report, and never finished the classwork, and got an "F" in the course, and dropped outta school, and was now working for his father in his father's gas station along I-95, not far from Intercourse, Pennsylvania, and Helpless Herman had suddenly found that old copy of Moby Dick, and was -- that very day, finally returning it to the li-berry, where he owed $786.11 and so's he wasn't along with me an' my posse an' Nervous Ned, Depressed Fred, Lonesome Larry, Pillbox Annie, Hopeless Henry, Pathetic Pedro, and me an' -- did I mention my half-sister from my mother's third marriage, Eleanora Susan, who preferred to be called Elly Sue? Well, my half-sister from my mother's third marriage, Elly Sue, was there, too, and me and the who-o-o-ole gang, decided to go to the Chelsea Piers in New York City, which is basically a bunch-a piers over there in New York City over in Chelsea.
So there we were, just walkin' along, having a grand ol' time, an' it was a real nice sunny day, even tho it was winter, and it could-a been 20 or even 30 degrees or something like that, but it wasn't, really more like 60 or so, with a little breeze blowin', an' me an' Nervous Ned and Depressed Fred an' Lonesome Larry an' Pillbox Annie and her boyfriends Hopeless Henry and Pathetic Pedro, an' me an' my half-sister from my mother's third marriage, Elly Sue, we wuz jus' walkin' around, passin' those movie studios, and them rollerblade areas, and the bike ridin' lanes, and the outdoor-tennis-ball-hittin'-an'-practicin'-areas, and we like, walked around, you know -- around -- and then we walked around some more, an' the next thing we knew, it was lunchtime, an' we kind-a walked some more 'til we found ourselves right smack dab in the middle of the area -- I said "smack dab in the middle"! -- of the area where the people was hittin' an' practicin' with the tennis balls, so that all around us wuz a whole bunch of cages with mesh screens around them, full of folks watchin' the balls come whizzin' outta-a machine, an' chargin' those little tennis balls, and whackin' 'em somethin' fierce, and the ground around the cages was littered with those tennis balls -- I said LITTERED -- when -- suddenly -- outta nowhere -- a tennis ball comes flyin' over the mesh screen.
And, you know, folks, this wasn't just an ord-in-ary mesh screen -- no-sirree -- it was one o' them thirty-foot-high mesh screens that let in the air and light into the outdoor-tennis-ball-hittin'-an'-practicin'-areas while keeping the tennis balls from gettin' hit out -- into the outside area outside of the outdoor-tennis-ball-hittin'-an'-practicin'-areas -- and we should'a kinda known that the tennis balls could've come out into the outside area -- even tho' they had the big mesh screens -- because the ground a-round the tennis-ball-hittin'-an'-practicin'-area was littered -- I said "littered!" -- with about 92 million of them tennis balls -- that's right, 92 million, give or take a couple that might've rolled on down to the Hudson River, which was just a few feet away from the Chelsea Piers, and -- in fact, Chelsea Piers was named the Chelsea Piers BE-cause they were in Chelsea, AND the Piers was right there, pokin' out into the Hudson River.
Well, first that tennis ball come flyin' over the mesh screen, and it bonked poor ol' Pillbox Annie, right in the noggin', and then bounced away somewhere among the other 92 million tennis ball litter -- give or take a few -- that was lyin' there, right there at the Chelsea Piers, an' ol' Pillbox Annie got this funny look on 'er face, and she kind-a stumbled around fer a moment, and then she crashed down on the sidewalk, on a perfect arc, like the Leanin' Tower of Pisa had just finally fallen. We all jus' kind-a looked at her a second before we all sprung into action, and we rushed to her side, but it was clear that she'd gotten a nasty bang on the head from that tennis ball, and then we all started talkin' at once.
First Nervous Ned looked around him, and started muttering, "I guess we'd better be careful no more o' them tennis balls comes this way." Then Depressed Fred said he was "sure this kind of carelessness happened all the time, and we were probably next in line to get bonked by a tennis ball." After that Lonesome Larry whined, "if this happened to me, no one would care at all!" Hopeless Henry just stood there and shrugged, and then he stared up at the sky, as if he wuz expectin' another tennis ball to come flying into him. Meanwhile, Pathetic Pedro flung himself on Pillbox Annie's limp body, and began wailing that she "had to live if only for the hamsters." We all kind-a looked at him with a lot of confusion, because we didn't know then about the five little hamsters that Pillbox Annie kept, but we wuz willin' to give them -- Pillbox Annie and Pathetic Pedro, not the hamsters -- the benefit of the doubt.
Just then, another tennis ball came over the mesh screen, and it kinda did a double roll, and then it flooped once or twice, and we all run fer cover, but it come down hard, and bonked Hopeless Henry right in the noggin, just like Pillbox Annie, and he toppled over and was clutchin' his head, yellin' 'n' screamin', "why is it always ME?!" and jus' then, Pillbox Annie starts to recover and opens her blurry eyes and looks around her in a daze, when a third tennis ball comes sailin' over the mesh screen -- I said "right over the mesh screen" and whacks me in the noggin'!
Well, you could-a hit me with a flyin' fish stuffed with chocolate chocolate chip ice cream -- I was so surprised, but I was also pretty dazed, and somewhat bruised and bloodied since I'd jus' been hit right in the old noggin', folks, by a fairly hard little tennis ball and NOT a flying fish stuffed with chocolate chips, and so I kind-a stumbled around fer a minute, trying to get my bearings, I guess, but I don't really know fer sure, on account-a the tennis ball walloped me pretty hard, an' my brains weren't too clear, and all's I remember was this big "THUD!" that sounded like it was happenin' inside my head and behind my eyes, and I kind-a crumpled to the ground, smack dab in the middle of a pile of about 92 million littered tennis balls, give or take a few, right there at the Chelsea Piers along the Hudson River.
Anyway, next thing I know, there's me lyin' on the ground, an' there's Pillbox Annie lyin' on the ground near me, and there's everybody else kind-a standin' around either wailin' or wringin' their hands, and all I kin hear is Nervous Ned goin' "Are we all gettin' beaned? Is that what's happenin'?" and Depressed Fred goin' "It figures...it wasn't a lousy enough day already...we had to have this happen!" and Lonesome Larry, goin' "Nobody ever came to my aid the way we're doin' for them!" Then I open one eye an' outta the corner of the one open eye, I see Pathetic Pedro and Elly Sue, over by the river, an' they're neckin' an' I'm thinkin' "Whoa!...when did this start -- and what will Pillbox Annie do when she finds out?"
By this time, several people have begun to gather 'round me and Hopeless Henry an' Pillbox Annie, and they're startin' ta poke us and prod us ta see if we're conscious, and they're askin' our names and the date to see if we're sufferin' from con-cussion, and then they're askin' our telephone numbers and addresses to see if we're brain-damaged, and then they're askin' our social security and bank account numbers, to see if we're complete idiots willing to suffer a case of identity theft, and we're blinkin' amd stretchin' and moanin' and achin' and rubbin' the bumps on our heads where we got beaned, and the people are all starin' and prodin' and pokin' and askin' the questions and finally, in the middle o' all this, somebody yells "Kid – I said, kid – what’re’ya doin’?” And then I realize, the person askin' the question is me. And I said -- I said -- I said I got one question ta ask you folks -- just one question: "Just who is responsible for the tennis ball that hit my head?" Of course I was in pretty bad shape, bein' somewhat bruised and bloody from the tennis ball that whacked me in the head, but, then, so was Pillbox Annie, and so was Hopeless Henry.
And that's when we all realized si-multaneously that there weren't nobody responsible for the fiasco (which we later began to refer to as the "Littered Tennis Ball Massa-cree") but we did realize that there are just some days when everything conspires against you, and when nothin' is gonna go right, and so we decided then and there, as soon as we all got up and could see straight, that is, -- that we would head on over to Malice's diner over on 42nd Street (which we always called Malice's restaurant), and so that's exactly what we all did, me an Pillbox Annie, Hopeless Henry, Pathetic Pedro, and Elly Sue, all headed over to the Malice diner and ordered the best brunch we could, and we sat there eating until a bunch-a young punks come in and saw how bloody and bruised some of us were and apparently decided to continue the process of us looking bruised and bloody -- along with the help of Malice, for some reason. (Maybe it was 'cause we'd written a few bad reviews on GrubHub??) Anyway, they wuz beating the whole group of us to a bloody pulp, whereupon there was screamin' an' yellin' and kickin' an' cussin' and punchin' and cryin' an' moanin' an' groanin' -- an' all kinds of other good stuff -- and somewhere amid the chaos, I think I heard Hopeless Henry muttering to his-self, "It figures... just because a few of us got whacked, we all had ta get whacked!" which is why I say the following words to you: (You can sing along with me if you want to...)
You can get the abuse you want, at Malice's restaurant
See them snicker and hear them taunt, at Malice's Restaurant
Just walk right in, with your shame and doubt
They'll be heaping scorn on you, till you walk out
You can get the abuse you want, at Malice's Restaurant ...
You can get everything you want -- including Malice -- at Malice's rest-aurrrrrr-aaaaaant!
lyric: (c.) Leigh Harrison, 2006
* * *