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Smip-Hits 99

Words: © 1999 by Tom Smith
Music: see below
Johnny Carson had a pillow embroidered with the first rule of comedy: Timing Is Everything. Each of these parodies is a vehicle, intended to deliver its joke and stop. I didn't even finish the chorus for the first one; if I ever think of at least two jokes to go there, I will finish it, but not before.

(to the tune of "You'll Be In My Heart" by Phil Collins)

I am the Tin Man from the Land of Oz.
Inside and outside, there's a pleasant buzz.
I don't need money, 'cause I've got honey,
I've got a hive inside of me.

It was a present that the Scarecrow gave,
The Lion got it for him, he's so brave,
Caught 'em hibernating, and I found it waiting,
Under the Christmas tree.

A Yule bee in my heart, a Yule bee in my heart....


(to the tune of "Johnny Be Goode" by Chuck Berry)

Well, he's got a little car called the ol' Mach Five,
You never seen a driver like this boy can drive,
Competing every episode with Racer X,
I'm wonderin' if he and Trixie ever have sex,
He's got a little brother and a chimp and Pops,
And now the Cartoon Network's pullin' out all the stops.

Go, go! Go, Speed Racer, go!
Go, Speed Racer, go!
Go, Speed Racer, go!
Go, Speed Racer, go!
Speed Racer, go!


(to the tune of "Livin' La Vida Loca" by Desmond Child and Robi Rosa)

We're the terror of your nation,
You're waiting while the penny drops,
'Cause roughly every generation,
We come along and eat your crops.

We're like grasshoppers, only ugly,
We're really noisy, big, and gauche,
So if you don't like stuff that's buggly,
We're up there with the cock-a-roach.

We were a plague of Egypt,
Prob'ly will be one again,
We'll eat up every cabbage leaf
And devour all your grain,
And our sound cuts through your brain -- come on!

Worse than ticks and fleas,
The Seventeen-Year Locust.
We're Acrididaes,
The Seventeen-Year Locust.
You can't push us round,
On all your food, we're focused,
We will all chow down,
The Seventeen-Year Locust.
YA YA!
The Seventeen-Year Locust.


(to the tune of "Copacabana" by Barry Manilow)

His name is Cartman, he's made of cardboard,
And he's a spoiled little brat, doesn't realize he's fat,
He calls it beefcake, and thinks he's buff, yeah,
But Cartman went a bit too far, with his mother's brand-new car,
He put it into gear,
Then heard a scream of fear,
There was blood and an orange parka
From the front... to... rear.

And it's oh, my
God, he killed Kenny,
Defenses, this kid ain't got any,
It's so easy
To take out Kenny,
Slower or faster, you killed him, you bastard,
He killed Kenny... till it's rerun.

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