@ALBUM: an.evening.wasted Author: Tom Lehrer Album title: An Evening Wasted With Tom Lehrer @SONG: Poisoning Pigeons In The Park Spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here. Life is skittles and life is beer. I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring. I do, don't you? Course you do. But there's one thing that makes spring complete for me, And makes ev'ry Sunday a treat for me. All the world seems in tune On a spring afternoon, When we're poisoning pigeons in the park. Ev'ry Sunday you'll see My sweetheart and me, As we poison the pigeons in the park. When they see us coming, the birdies all try an' hide, But they still go for peanuts when coated with cyanide. The sun's shining bright, Ev'rything seems all right, When we're poisoning pigeons in the park. We've gained notoriety, And caused much anxiety In the Audubon Society With our games. They call it impiety, And lack of propriety, And quite a variety Of unpleasant names. But it's not against any religion To want to dispose of a pigeon. So if Sunday you're free, Why don't you come with me, And we'll poison the pigeons in the park. And maybe we'll do In a squirrel or two, While we're poisoning pigeons in the park. We'll murder them all amid laughter and merriment. Except for the few we take home to experiment. My pulse will be quickenin' With each drop of strych'nine We feed to a pigeon. (It just takes a smidgin!) To poison a pigeon in the park. @SONG: Bright College Days Bright college days, oh, carefree days that fly, To thee we sing with our glasses raised on high. Let's drink a toast as each of us recalls Ivy-covered professors in ivy-covered halls. Turn on the spigot, Pour the beer and swig it, And gaudeamus igit-ur. Here's to parties we tossed, To the games that we lost, We shall claim that we won them some day. To the girls young and sweet, To the spacious back seat Of our roommate's beat up Chevrolet. To the beer and benzedrine, To the way that the dean Tried so hard to be pals with us all. To excuses we fibbed, To the papers we cribbed >From the genius who lived down the hall. To the tables down at Morey's (wherever that may be) Let us drink a toast to all we love the best. We will sleep through all the lectures, And cheat on the exams, And we'll pass, and be forgotten with the rest. Soon we'll be out amid the cold world's strife. Soon we'll be sliding down the razor blade of life. But as we go our sordid sep'rate ways, We shall ne'er forget thee, thou golden college days. Hearts full of youth, Hearts full of truth, Six parts gin to one part vermouth. @SONG: A Christmas Carol Christmas time is here, by golly, Disapproval would be folly, Deck the halls with hunks of holly, Fill the cup and don't say "when". Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens, Mix the punch, drag out the Dickens, Even though the prospect sickens, Brother, here we go again. On Christmas Day you can't get sore, Your fellow man you must adore, There's time to rob him all the more The other three hundred and sixty-four. Relations, sparing no expense'll Send some useless old utensil, Or a matching pen and pencil. "Just the thing I need! How nice!" It doesn't matter how sincere it Is, nor how heartfelt the spirit, Sentiment will not endear it, What's important is the price. Hark the Herald Tribune sings, Advertising wondrous things. God rest you merry, merchants, May you make the Yuletide pay. Angels we have heard on high Tell us to go out and buy! So let the raucous sleighbells jingle, Hail our dear old friend Kris Kringle, Driving his reindeer across the sky. Don't stand underneath when they fly by. @SONG: Elements There's antimony, arsenic, aluminum, selenium, And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium, And nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium, And iron, americium, ruthenium, uranium, Europium, zirconium, lutetium, vanadium, And lanthanum and osmium and astatine and radium, And gold and protactinium and indium and gallium, And iodine and thorium and thulium and thallium. There's yttrium, ytterbium, actinium, rubidium, And boron, gadolinium, niobium, iridium, And strontium and silicon and silver and samarium, And bismuth, bromine, lithium, beryllium, and barium. There's holmium and helium and hafnium and erbium, And phosphorus and francium and fluorine and terbium, And manganese and mercury, molybdenum, magnesium, Dysprosium and scandium and cerium and cesium. And lead, praseodymium, and platinum, plutonium, Palladium, promethium, potassium, polonium, And tantalum, technetium, titanium, tellurium, And cadmium and calcium and chromium and curium. There's sulfur, californium, and fermium, berkelium, And also mendelevium, einsteinium, nobelium, And argon, krypton, neon, radon, xenon, zinc, and rhodium, And chlorine, carbon, cobalt, copper, tungsten, tin, and sodium. These are the only ones of which the news has come to Ha'vard, And there may be many others, but they haven't been discavard. @SONG: Oedipus Rex >From the Bible to the popular song, There's one theme that we find right along. Of all ideals they hail as good, The most sublime is Motherhood. There was a man, oh, who it seems, Once carried this ideal to extremes. He loved his mother and she loved him, And yet his story is rather grim. There once lived a man named Oedipus Rex. You may have heard about his odd complex. His name appears in Freud's index 'Cause he loved his mother. His rivals used to say quite a bit, But as a monarch he was most unfit. But still in all they had to admit That he loved his mother. Yes he loved his mother like no other. His daughter was his sister and his son was his brother. One thing on which you can depend is, He sure knew who a boy's best friend is! When he found out what he had done, He tore his eyes out one by one. A tragic end to a loyal son Who loved his mother. So be sweet and kind to Mother, Now and then have a chat. Buy her panty hose and flowers, or a brand new hat. But maybe you had better let it go at that! Or you may find yourself with a quite complex complex, And you may end up like Oedipus. I'd rather marry a duck-billed platypus, Than end up like old Oedipus Rex. @SONG: In Old Mexico When it's fiesta time in Guadalajara, Then I long to be back once again In Old Mexico. Where we lived for today, Never giving a thought to tomara. To the strumming of guitars, In a hundred grubby bars I would whisper "Te amo." The mariachis would serenade, And they would not shut up till they were paid. We ate, we drank, and we were merry, And we got typhoid and dysentery. But best of all, we went to the Plaza de Toros. Now whenever I start feeling morose, I revive by recalling that scene. And names like Belmonte, Dominguin, and Manolete, If I live to a hundred and eighty, I shall never forget what they mean. (For there is surely nothing more beautiful in this world than the sight of a lone man facing singlehandedly a half a ton of angry pot roast!) Out came the matador, Who must have been potted or Slightly insane, but who looked rather bored. Then the picadors of course, Each one on his horse, I shouted "Ole!" ev'ry time one was gored. I cheered at the bandilleros' display, As they stuck the bull in their own clever way, For I hadn't had so much fun since the day My brother's dog Rover Got run over. (Rover was killed by a Pontiac. And it was done with such grace and artistry that the witnesses awarded the driver both ears and the tail--but I digress.) The moment had come, I swallowed my gum, We knew there'd be blood on the sand pretty soon. The crowd held its breath, Hping that death Would brighten an otherwise dull afternoon. At last, the matador did what we wanted him to. He raised his sword and his aim was true. In that moment of truth I suddenly knew That someone had stolen my wallet. Now it's fiesta time in Akron, Ohio, But it's back to old Guadalajara I'm longing to go. Far away from the strikes of the A.F. of L. and C.I.O. How I wish I could get back To the land of the wetback, And forget the Alamo, In Old Mexico. Ole! @SONG: It Makes A Fellow Proud To Be A Soldier The heart of every man in our platoon must swell with pride, For the nation's youth, the cream of which is marching at his side. For the fascinating rules and regulations that we share, And the quaint and curious costumes that we're called upon to wear. Now Al joined up to do his part defending you and me. He wants to fight and bleed and kill and die for liberty. With the hell of war he's come to grips, Policing up the filter tips, It makes a fella proud to be a soldier! When Pete was only in the seventh grade, he stabbed a cop. He's real R.A. material and he was glad to swap His switchblade and his old zip gun For a bayonet and a new M-1. It makes a fella proud to be a soldier! After Johnny got through basic training, he Was a soldier through and through when he was done. It's effects were so well rooted, That the next day he saluted A Good Humor man, an usher, and a nun. Now Fred's an intellectual, brings a book to every meal. He likes the deep philosophers, like Norman Vincent Peale. He thinks the army's just the thing, Because he finds it broadening. It makes a fella proud to be a soldier! Now Ed flunked out of second grade, and never finished school. He doesn't know a shelter half from an entrenching tool. But he's going to be a big success. He heads his class at OCS. It makes a fella proud to be a soldier! Our old mess sergeant's taste buds had been shot off in the war. But his savory collations add to our esprit de corps. To think of all the marvelous ways They're using plastics nowadays. It makes a fella proud to be a soldier! Our lieutenant is the up-and-coming type. Played with soldiers as a boy you just can bet. It is written in the stars He will get his captain's bars, But he hasn't got enough box tops yet. Our captain has a handicap to cope with, sad to tell. He's from Georgia, and he doesn't speak the language very well. He used to be, so rumor has, the Dean of Men at Alcatraz. It makes a fella proud to be, When as a kid I vowed to be, One ought to be allowed to be A soldier. (At ease!) @SONG: She's My Girl Sharks gotta swim, and bats gotta fly, I gotta love one woman till I die. To Ed or Dick or Bob She may be just a slob, But to me, well, She's my girl. In winter the bedroom is one large ice cube, And she squeezes the toothpaste from the middle of the tube. Her hairs in the sink Have driven me to drink, But she's my girl, she's my girl, she's my girl, And I love her. The girl that I lament for, The girl my money's spent for, The girl my back is bent for, The girl I owe the rent for, The girl I gave up Lent for Is the girl that heaven meant for me. So though for breakfast she makes coffes that tastes like shampoo, I come home for dinner and get peanut butter stew, Or if I'm in luck, It's broiled hockey puck, But, oh well, what the hell, She's my girl, And I love her. @SONG: The Masochism Tango I ache for the touch of your lips, Dear, But much more for the touch of your whips, Dear. You can raise welts Like nobody else, As we dance to the Masochism Tango. Let our love be a flame, not an ember, Say it's me that you want to dismember. Blacken my eye, Set fire to my tie, As we dance to the Masochism Tango. At your command Before you here I stand, My heart is in my hand. Ecch! It's here that I must be. My heart entreats, Just hear those savage beats, And go put on your cleats And come and trample me. Your heart is hard as stone or mahogany, That's why I'm in such exquisite agony. My soul is on fire, It's aflame with desire, Which is why I perspire When we tango. You caught my nose In your left castanet, Love, I can feel the pain yet, Love, Ev'ry time I hear drums. And I envy the rose That you held in your teeth, Love, With the thorns underneath, Love, Sticking into your gums. Your eyes cast a spell that bewitches. The last time I needed twenty stitches To sew up the gash That you made with your lash, As we danced to the Masochism Tango. Bash in my brain, And make me scream with pain, Then kick me once again, And say we'll never part. I know too well I'm underneath your spell, So, Darling, if you smell Something burning, it's my heart. Excuse me! Take your cigarette from its holder, And burn your initials in my shoulder. Fracture my spine, And swear that you're mine, As we dance to the Masochism Tango. @SONG: We Will All Go Together When We Go When you attend a funeral, It is sad to think that sooner or later Those you love will do the same for you. And you may have thought it tragic, Not to mention other adjec- tives, To think of all the weeping they will do. But don't you worry. No more ashes, no more sackcloth. And an armband made of black cloth Will some day nevermore adorn a sleeve. For if the bomb that drops on you Gets your friends and neighbors too, There'll be nobody left behind to grieve. And we will all go together when we go. What a comforting thought that is to know. Universal bereavement, An inspiring achievement, Yes, we will all go together when we go. We will all go together when we go. All suffuse with an incandescent glow. No one will have the endurance To collect on his insurance, Lloyd's of London will be loaded when they go. Oh we will all fry together when we fry. We'll be french fried potatoes by and by. There will be no more misery When the world is our rotisserie, Yes, we will all fry together when we fry. Down by the old maelstrom, There'll be a storm before the calm. And we will all bake together when we bake. There'll be nobody present at the wake. With complete participation In that grand incineration, Nearly three billion hunks of well-done steak. Oh we will all char together when we char. And let there be no moaning of the bar. Just sing out a Te Deum When you see that I.C.B.M., And the party will be "come as you are." Oh we will all burn together when we burn. There'll be no need to stand and wait your turn. When it's time for the fallout And Saint Peter calls us all out, We'll just drop our agenda and adjourn. You will all go directly to your respective Valhallas. Go directly, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dolla's. And we will all go together when we go. Ev'ry Hottenhot and ev'ry Eskimo. When the air becomes uranious, We will all go simultaneous. Yes we all will go together When we all go together,