Other Writing: Parody

As Time Goes By

But just remember this,
A fish is still a fish,
A pie is still a pie,
No matter what the waiter brings
As time goes by.

That’s Amore

That’s Amore

That’s Amore (1952), music by Harry Warren, lyrics by Jack Brooks, became a wildly popular hit for Dean Martin in 1953. No one who was of an age to listen to the radio in 1953 can ever forget this song, however much he might want to. To hear Dean Martin’s rendition, click here.

Original lyrics

Added verses

In Napoli where love is king,

When boy meets girl here’s what they say.

 

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie,

That’s amore;

When the world seems to shine like you’ve had too much wine,

That’s amore.

Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling

And you’ll sing “Vita bella”

Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay

Like a gay tarantella.

When the moon hits your ear like a bucket of beer,

That’s baloney;

When your life feels so deep that you’re falling asleep,

That’s baloney.

Bells will chime, have-you-got-the-time, can-you-spare-a-dime,

And you’ll add macaroni

To a pot with a lot that you got

To make hot minestrone.

When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool,

That’s amore;

When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet,

You’re in love.

When you walk down in a dream but you know you’re not

Dreaming signore!

Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli

That’s amore.

When you’re sick in the head and you take to your bed,

That’s neurosis;

When you crouch in your hut with a pain in your gut,

You’ve got gas.

When your heart skips a beat and you drop in the street,

That’s thrombosis!

When you go for a ride on the Upper East Side,

Halitosis!

When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool,

That’s amore;

When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet,

You’re in love.

When you walk in a dream but you know you’re not

Dreaming signore –

Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli,

That’s amore!

When the stars make you pee like retsina and brie,

Indigestion;

When a fresh matzo ball tastes like nothing at all,

Oi gevalt!

Should you tear out your hair or eat a chocolate éclair?

What a question!

When you feel with your heel that you’ve stepped on an eel,

That’s a moray!

Strangers in the Night

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The Cat Song

The Cat Song

A catterel by David F. Phillips

Sung to the tune of the Toreador Song from Bizet’s Carmen
[Play it here, behind the lyrics: http://tinyurl.com/d5p2wh9]
[You will have to play it three times
because the clip has only two stanzas
and the poem has six stanzas.]

Some cats are stupid;
Other cats are smart.
How can we tell
These cats apart?
That’s a secret of the feline heart –
I don’t know where to start.

Sometimes we even fail
To read the tail,
And that’s the easy part.

Cats don’t eat salads;
Cats don’t eat brown rice.
Here’s what they like:
Sparrows and mice.
Cats prefer to kill their food themselves,
Though we don’t think it’s nice.

A touch of blood and gore
Upon the floor
Just adds a little spice.

Graceful to look at,
Soft and sleek to touch,
We like to stroke
Cats very much.
Cats will let us scratch behind their ears,
Rub their bellies, and such.

But once they’ve had enough
Of all this stuff,
They will evade our clutch.

Cats are destructive,
Scratching up the chair.
They like to shed
Hair everywhere.
We are useful servants for their needs.
More than that, they don’t care.

To them, the role of man’s
To open cans.
But yet we’re glad they’re there.

What are they thinking?
I don’t know. Do you?
Feel free to ask;
Answers are few.
Cats don’t even try to vocalize.
Just a hiss or a mew.

We can’t surmise what lies
Behind those eyes
Of yellow, green or blue.

Here is the secret.
Data’s all compiled.
Really cats are
Thoroughly wild.
Though they act like cozy little pets,
Docile, gentle and mild,

Inside, your placid cat
Is not like that.
A cat is not a child.

March 2013

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas

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