Thursday, February 16, 2017

Harold's Halloween Special, 1997

I couldn't stand it! I could not allow that anonymous upstart to seize my place as the Prince of Racist Parodies with his "Crashing On A Light Plane"... so I began to twirl around in my brain some ideas for another of my witty decompositions on the watery death of John Denver.

But possibly because of the impending advent of Halloween, what I came up with was a weird scenario wherein all our recent decendents rise from their graves at midnight in some spectral cemetary for a big hoedown, rather like Robert Burns' "Tam O'Shanter"---a Night of the Politically Correct Living Dead....

Imagine the scene if you will...the mist on the gravestones, the dripping Spanish moss from the trees, the gibbous and gibbering moon, as the shadesof the glitterati celebs answer the ghostly summons....tonight is Country Night, a charity gig to buy ice water for all the faggots who died of AIDS and are now burning in hell.... music is provided by the head of John Denver (lead vocal); the headless corpse of John Denver (fiddle); Jerry Garcia (banjo); Jim Morrison (guitar); Jimi Hendrix (bass guitar); Janis Joplin (Jew's harp); Kurt Cobain (slap bass); John Lennon (jug); and Richie Valens (playing Che Guevara's skeletal remains as a xylophone). Guest vocals by Diana, Princess of Wales and the late designer Gianni Versace. Leonard Bernstein conducts.



 Well the liberal life done me a lot of harm,
 If I had a lick o' sense I woulda stayed down on the farm,
 Whupping up on my wife added nothing to my charm,
 My God! I'm a country buoy!

 I was over the Pacific, feeling glad to be alive
 When my micro-light took a big swan dive,
 Should have left me for the fishes, so they could survive,
 My God, I'm a country buoy!

 Well my lyrics were fluff,
 And my tunes mediocre,
 But I'll sell a lot of records
 Now I've gone and done a croaker,
 Life's a game of chance, and I was dealt a joker!
 My God, I'm a country buoy!


 Well, I really was a bitch, and a true glitterati,
 Dolled up to the nines, I was arrogant and snotty,
 Instead of a Mercedes, should've took a Maserati!
 Thank God I'm a hoi-poloi!

 I was jetting 'round the world, posing for the papparazzi,
 But now I'm being mocked on the Net by a Nazi,
 It's a big comedown for a Lady Hotsy-Totsy!
 Thank God I'm a hoi-poloi!

 I had fame, I had fans,
 I had money and glory,
 But a piss-drunk frog
 Put an end to my story,
 When he tried to take a tunnel at a hundred and forty...
 Thank God I'm a hoi-poloi!


 I'm a-maka all de clothes for de rich-a and de famous,
 While I getta sodomized alla time up de anus,
 And I gotta funny ting-a for de whippas and de chain-es,
 Mama mia! I'm a bugger boy!

 One day in Miami I'm-a walka down de street
 When I meet a former catamite who ain't-a very sweet,
 He pull outa big-a Nine and he blow me off my feet,
 Got plugged by a bugger boy!

 Well my clothes costa more
 Den you make-a in a year,
 Costa more den you make
 In your whole damn career,
 But now I ain't-a nothing but a dead Italian queer!
 Got plugged by a bugger boy!

 (Instrumental break. John Denver, waving his head, does a do-se-do  with the sliced and diced cadaver of Princess Di, the bullet-riddled lich of Versace and his boyfriend William Kunstler. A line dance is performed among the headstones by all of the murder, "suicide", and other mysterious death victims of the Clinton administration, quite a crowd.)


 Our degenerate lives had a mighty allure,
 And our tabloid culture is a pile of manure,
 And we turned the whole world into an open-air sewer!
 By God! We were stupid goys!

 Bein' dead has one advantage as a rule,
 You can see where you've been such a gol-durned fool,
 And where we're going really ain't very cool,
 By God! We were stupid goys!

 Well we had the idea
 We could do what we wanted
 We could trash our own people
 And then we could flaunt it,
 Then we croaked and we found what the Lord really wanted,
 By God! We were stupid goys!

(The earth opens and Hell swallows them all up as the dawn breaks...)

No comments: