Do the Phoenix (song – humorous)

Do The Phoenix

©1994 David Lefkowitz

Here’s a brand-new dance any moron can do
If you’re wealthy and famous, it’s made just for you
If you’re young, and you’re foolish, and you can’t handle fame
Then go to a club where the world knows your name
Do a few shots, and you’ll feel all right
After 25 grams of Peruvian white
Do the Phoenix
The River Phoenix


First you get high
Then you die
Do the Phoenix.

Open your veins
Shovel the crap in
You’re only 20-something
Nothin’ will happen
Grin like a hipster
Try to act ballsy
All of a sudden you shake like a palsy
Scream while your eyes roll back in your head
Drop on the ground, and in minutes, you’re dead.
Do the Phoenix
Do the Phoenix


If you wanna be free
You gotta O.D.
Do the Phoenix

Be the kid who has everything, money to burn
The Sixties were a lesson that the boy didn’t learn
What a big hero, give him a hand
A stunning role-model for the youth of the land
Marijuana, heroin, cocaine and base
He’s only a martyr `cause he had a cute face
Do the Phoenix
The River Phoenix


Everybody calls him another James Dean
He’s just a dead loser who couldn’t keep clean

Do the Phoenix
Whooo! Do the Phoenix

Pretty young women, flashy new cars
If he were blue collar, he’d be behind bars
He wasn’t the Boy Scout the media made him
Where were the cameras when his lifestyle betrayed him?
He was anti-pollution
A vegan, as well,
But his bloodstream looked like a Slurpee from hell
Do the Phoenix
Do the Phoenix


If you wanna be sure your song will be sung
Act like a schmuck, but you better die young
Do the Phoenix
The River Phoenix
Whoo! Do the Phoenix.

Moose You Around (song – humorous)

MOOSE YOU AROUND

©1985 David Lefkowitz

STAGE DIRECTIONS:
A guitarist with a sombrero will take the stage, as will a florid fop with a curly-cue moustache.
The fop selects an attractive lady from the audience and seats her onstage.
The fop producers a pair of moose antlers, which he straps to his head.
With guitar accompaniment, the fop serenades his lady love.

If life hits you hard, and you’re wearing a frown
Just climb on my antlers; I’ll moose you around.

If your eyeballs are green, but they say that they’re brown
Just climb on my antlers, I’ll moose you around.

I’m not an elk, I’m not a deer
I’m not an antelope, although there’s some resemblance here.

If your boyfriend berates you and calls you a clown
Just climb on my antlers, I’ll moose you around.


STAGE DIRECTIONS:
Here, the fop asks his amour to dance. She should hold onto his antlers while they gently waltz around the stage.


Diddly dee dee dee dee dee dee diddle-ee dee dee dee
Doodly doo doo doo doo doo doodly doo doo doo.

If you feel like a king with thorns in your crown
Just climb on my antlers; I’ll moose you around.

STAGE DIRECTIONS:
They stop dancing. The fop kneels and poses before his true love.

I’m not a squirrel, I’m not a squid
I’m just a mammal with horns on his hyid.

If you ever get bloodstains on your wedding gown
Just climb on my antlers, I’ll moose you around.

If the tide is so high that you can’t help but drown.
Just climb on my antlers; I’ll moose you around.

STAGE DIRECTIONS:
If the femme has been especially cooperative, the fop may honor her by putting the moose antlers on her head. Have the audience give the participant a big hand. Take back her antlers, give her the photo, and help her offstage.

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Ben Gazzara (song – humorous)

BEN GAZZARA

©1994 David Lefkowitz

may be sung a cappella

Oh, how I miss Ben Gazzara
What an actor
What a talent
What a star

Why did he give up on the business?
Is he hiding on an island or an isthmus?
Will there be no studio release for Christmas?

Oh, how I miss Ben Gazzara
What an actor
What a talent
What a star

You can’t go so long without practice
And still be one of the great method actors

That’s why I miss Ben Gazzara
Although his script choices were terrible
He made Cassavetes’ films bearable
Even “Shimada” was better than nada.

Oh, how I miss Ben Gazzara
What an actor
What a talent
What a star

I’d rather watch “Killing of a Chinese Bookie”
Than take a week off from work playing hookey
Eat a double-fudge-covered, graham-cracker, cream-center, chocolate-chip cookie
Or have Dallas-Cowgirl-cheerleader, baby-oil Hershey-syrup nookie

Oh, how I miss Ben Gazzara
What an actor
What a talent
What a star

Is he off in a room playing Pacman
While his roles all go to Gene Hackman?

Oh, how I miss Ben Gazzara
What an actor
What a talent
What a star

How I wonder
How I wonder
Where you are.

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The Trickle Down Lullaby (song/skit – humorous)

THE TRICKLE DOWN LULLABY

©1985 David Lefkowitz

STAGE DIRECTIONS:
A middle-class fellow pushes a baby carriage onstage. He takes that day’s newspaper out of the carriage and opens it to the lottery page. The fellow takes a Lotto ticket out of his pocket and checks the numbers. He crumples the ticket and hurls it into the carriage.
We hear the baby start crying. The man sighs and unbuttons his shirt.
He gently scoops the baby (a doll) out of the carriage and shushes it. He suckles the sobbing babe against his nipple.
Daddy begins to sing, “The Trickle Down Lullaby,” a cappella, to the tune of “Mockingbird.”

Hush, little baby, don’t you shout
Daddy’s gonna open a bank account

And if that bank account don’t pay
Daddy’s gonna open an IRA

And if that IRA goes bust
Daddy’s gonna buy himself a trust

And if that trust goes on the rocks
Daddy’s gonna buy some blue-chip stocks

And if those stocks they don’t respond
Daddy’s gonna buy a Shearson bond

And if that bond begins to slip
Daddy’s gonna form a partnership

And if he don’t incorporate
Daddy’s gonna buy some real estate

And if the market is depressed
Daddy’s gonna open a small business

And if it all gets out of hand
Daddy’s gonna buy some Krugerrands

And if those Krugerrands don’t grow
Daddy’s got a tip at Pimlico

And if that horse runs out of steam
Daddy’s gonna play the slot machine

And if that slot machine don’t purr
Daddy’s gonna hock the furniture

And if their value don’t go higher
Daddy’s gonna set the house on fire

And if Prudential smells a hoax
Daddy’s gonna go out robbin’ folks

And if those folks they start to run
Daddy’s gonna buy himself a gun

And in that gun are bullets, two
One for me and one for you

So, hush, little baby, don’t you brood
Daddy’s in a really rotten mood
Yes, hush, little baby, sleep tonight
And pray dad picked his numbers right.

STAGE DIRECTIONS:
Whistling the tune, daddy tucks the pistol into the carriage and pushes the pram offstage.

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Jo Anne Worley, Bea Arthur and Me (poem – humorous)

JO ANNE WORLEY, BEA ARTHUR AND ME

©1986 David Lefkowitz

(poem; no music)

I had a dream of sexual bliss
Love never made me feel like this
I was staring at the kitchen floor
When I heard a knock at the unlocked door.

“It’s open!” I shouted.
“Come in, please.”
And there stood Bea Arthur
In a purple chemise.

“May I use your phone?” the golden girl purred.
“No problem,” I said, but I don’t think she heard.
When the phone call was finished,
She yanked the receiver
Then lay on the sofa and showed me her beaver.

“Miss Arthur!” I gasped, “but you’re so famous!”
“Shut up!” she replied. “And finger my anus.”
Just then, the window flew up with a crash,
And into my room stepped another hot gash.
Her skin so pale, her hair so curly,
There she was, in the flesh, “Laugh-In’s” Jo Anne Worley.

Oh, what perfect ecstasy.
Jo Anne Worley, Bea Arthur and me.

Jo Anne stripped off her yellow thong
And snapped a rubber on my dong
And sprang up and said, “Get ready!
I learned this from Estelle Getty.”

She jammed her head between my thighs
Until I grew to massive size.
Jo Anne Worley took her place
With both cheeks resting on my face.

We really put on quite a show
Jo Anne Worley, Bea Arthur y yo.

No woman on earth, from Capetown to Cairo
Could match the snap of Jo Anne’s gyro.
We filled the bathroom with spice and champagne
While Bea Arthur climaxed again and again.
Jo Anne Worley screamed as she tore her brassiere
I only wish Ruth Buzzi were here!

I humped and I pumped till the ladies were sore
But Bea and Jo Anne just cried out for more.
Bea made me grovel and squeal like a pig
Jo Anne bit my neck, so I came in her wig.

We tried French ticklers, we tried Ben-Wa
Jo Anne Worley, Bea Arthur et moi.

Finally, our tryst came to a close
They packed in their boobs,
I tucked in my hose
We rolled up the carpet
`cause it was all sticky
Then Bea and Jo Anne both gave me a hickey.

Bea put the telephone back on the hook
And ran out the door with nary a look
“Hot damn!’ said Jo Anne. “My box is still tight.”
And quick as a flash, she vanished from sight.

I smiled, lay back and tried to recall
The highlights of this spectacular ball
When suddenly, my thighs were covered with cream
And that’s how I awoke from my dream.
Forever, I’ll cherish my fantasy
Jo Anne Worley, Bea Arthur and me.

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Orgy Boy (song – humorous)

ORGY BOY

©1987 David Lefkowitz

I’ve got blood on my nipples
And my mouth is full of jizz
I got puke n’ cum running down my bum
And I don’t know whose it is

Could you please insert your finger
In my moist and secret place?
And could you kindly shift your butt cheeks
On my face?

Somebody’s got his tongue in my rear
Givin’ me a wedgie with an old brassiere
There’s another group of men
(gulp!) It’s time to swallow again.

Who’s that guy with the pen knife?
He reminds me of my pa
With his dick of death and his onion breath
And his broken felching straw

And that fag in the bathroom
Bleeding like a sieve
I sure hope he don’t test positive.

Somebody’s wiping his ass with my hair
Wrecking my pecker with a folding chair
70 is such a thrill
It’s 69 with a power drill.

I’m the orgy boy
Giving head, giving joy
I’m the orgy boy
Don’t you wish you were me?
Don’t you wish you were me?

I got K.Y. on my eyelids and feces on my teeth
The dyke above is making love to the she-male underneath
If that rope gets any tighter
My balls will turn bright blue
This may not be love, but it’ll do.

What do I have to feel sorry for?
I don’t touch children. Well, not anymore.
74 is such a gas
It’s 69 with an arm in your ass.

I’m the orgy boy
Spreading germs, spreading joy
I’m the orgy boy
Don’t you wish you were me?
(Admit it) Don’t you wish you were me?
(C’mon now) Don’t you wish you were me?

Alternate lyric for the second bridge:
73 is such a kick
It’s 69 with a fork in your dick

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Me (song – humorous)

ME

©1988 David Lefkowitz

I’m gonna find me some arable land
And then I’m gonna farm it
(Moo moo)
I’m gonna find me a beautiful wife
And then I’m gonna charm it
(Ooh ooh)

I’m gonna buy me a rare, exotic bird
And then I’m gonna perch it
(Caw caw!)
I’m gonna take someone’s good reputation
and maybe I’ll besmirch it
(tsk tsk tsk)

`cause I am an extraordinary fellow
I take a chance when other folks turn yellow

I’m gonna find me a homeless bum,
And then I will befriend it
I’m gonna make us a whole lotta money
And we’s a-gonna spend it

I’m gonna buy me a long blonde wig
And then I’m gonna curl it
I’m gonna catch me a tropical fish
And throw it in the terlit

`Cause I am an extraordinary fellow
When I confront a challenge, I say, “Hello!
Prepare to meet your maker:”

Me
I’m so happy I’m me
Nothing I’d rather be
Than me me me me
(snap snap snap snap)

I’m gonna buy me a cinnamon donut
And then I’m gonna dunk it
I’m gonna take the S.A.T., and I’m a-gonna flunk it.

I’m gonna go to a Chinese restaurant
And order me an egg roll
I’ll never do a movie nude scene
Unless it is integroll.

`Cause I am homosapiens perfection
To Darwin’s law of natural selection
I offer this correction:

Me.
I’m so happy I’m me
Nothing I’d rather be
It’s so easy to see
That I’m happy and free
`cause I’m me me me me
(snap snap snap snap)

I’m gonna write myself a speech,
And then I’m gonna wing it
I’m gonna dream a happy song
And then I’m gonna sing it.

`Cause I am a terrific human being
Each morning when I’m in the bathroom peeing
I know that I’ll be seeing:

Me
I’m so happy I’m me
No one I’d rather be
It’s so easy to see
That I’m jumping with glee (yeah!)
And I’m laughing, tee-hee
`cause I’m happy and free
Nothing I’d rather be
But Me
Me
Me!

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