Category Archives: Lyrics

She’s a mouser

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For all cats everywhere.

There’s a kitty in my house
She loves the taste of mouse
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

She’s the master of her fate
She’s never one to wait
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

She jumps on my lap
And she plays with my cap
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

She does what she will
And she sleeps on the sill
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

She once fit in the palm of my hand
Her green eyes tried to understand
Why there was no big parade
Or crowds to applaud her on her way

She dreams her kitty dreams
She runs the roofy beams
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

The sun is her friend
You’d think they were kin
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

She loves to jump and play
Each and every day
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouse

When she gets to cavort
She’s never out of sorts
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

She once fit in the palm of my hand
Her green eyes tried to understand
Why there was no big parade
Or crowds to applaud her on her way

She’s got long sharp teeth
And claws on her feet
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

She keeps the mice away
And all the rats at bay
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

If you’re a rat in town
Don’t come around
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

There’s a kitty in my house
She loves the taste of mouse
She’s a mouser, she’s a mouser

She once fit in the palm of my hand
Her green eyes tried to understand
Why there was no big parade
Or crowds to applaud her on her way

She’s my mouser
She’s my mouser
She’s my mouser
Oh, yes, she is

Laundrin’ Star

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Recently I re-saw one of my all time favorite musicals, Paint Your Wagon. So, what the hey. I was thinking I would do a parody. Instead of two prospectors showing up in a gold mining town, “Wash Your Wagon” could have two guys who want to start laundromats in the town. They’re competing for business. So here’s the song, “Laundrin’ Star”.

To be sung to the tune of Wandrin’ Star from “Paint Your Wagon”.

I was born under a laundrin’ star
I was born under a laundrin’ star
Soap is made for washing, scrubbing is made to clean
I’ve never seen a sight that didn’t look better when it’s keen
I was born under a laundrin’ star

Mud can make you dirty, and the sun can bake you dry
Soap can burn your eyes, but only dirty makes you cry
Clothes are made for washing, for dreams of getting clean
Which with any luck you’ll get to bathe again
I was born under a laundrin’ star
I was born under a laundrin’ star

Do I know where hell is, hell is in the mud
Heaven’s goodbye to dirt, it’s time for a scrub
I was born under a laundrin’ star
A laundrin’ laundrin’ star

Mud can make you dirty and the sun can bake you dry
Soap can burn your eyes, but only dirty make you cry
Clothes are made for washing, for dreams of getting clean
Which with any luck you’ll get to bathe again
I was born under a laundrin’ star
I was born under a laundrin’ star

When I get to heaven, throw me in a tub
Or I’ll begin to roam, and soon you’ll know I’ll be in the mud
I was born under a laundrin’ star
A laundrin’ star

The Ballading Man

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In honor of all those balladeers out there

Spanish guitars play a South-of-the-Border song
On the stage the man sings out loud and clear
Of a land made great by sweat and by blood,
A rose in the wilderness of every man’s fear.

The songs the ways of the past almost forgotten:
Of love’s wisdom, of life, glory and death,
Of battles raging and courageous men,
Conquistadors, el dorado tales of fabulous wealth.

Children, gather ’round and hear a ballading man
Warm as a winter fire by a family hearth
Wild as mountain flowers in early spring,
A natural theology of every man’s worth.

C’mon down

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If you like to eat, and you like to eat good
C’mon down and get yourself a bite
Of the best darn food in the neighborhood
Open six of the seven both day and night.

A wisp of a smell, the aroma grows
As you drive your car to the way down there
Where the food is great, a delight for the nose.
A darn good odor, it fills the air.

Have a burger and fries, they’re the best
With onions and ‘maters and lettuce too.
So um um good, you’ll puff out your chest.
You’ll snap your fingers and tap your shoe.

Have a steak and have it rare
Right off the grill and on your plate.
It’s made just right, grilled with care.
The best darn steak you ever ate.

If you want your sushi sushitized,
If you want your venison venisonized,
If you want your fish without their eyes,
Come to the place with the blue ribbon prize.

So c’mon down and feed yourself,
All you gals and all you fellows,
‘Cause Sam’s the cook, Ella the chef
Of the diner they call the Sam ‘N’ Ella.

A Bad Bad Boy

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The guv’ment came
And picked me up
“You’re a bad bad boy.

“What are you doing
Building a boat
Big as the city of Troy.

Neighbors complaining
‘Bout your hammering
From dawn to flashlight.”

“It’s going to rain.
I want to be ready
For the forty days and nights.”

The policeman said,
“You’re going to jail.”
“I ain’t got no time for that.

“If you let me go
I’ll give you a ride.
I won’t charge you a cent,

“Just you and your lady.
Can hitch with us
When the rain comes down.”

He gave it a think
When I told him more.
“You sure don’t wanna drown.

“There’s lot to do
And it’s going to be
One big regular zoo.

A tirne at the oars,
Swabbing the deck,
And cleaning up the poo.”

“Oh, my God,” he said.
“Think of the smell.
The place is going to stink.”

“That’s the price,”
I said to him,
“For a boat that won’t sink.”

So the two of them
Joined the eight of us
For a round the world tour.

Forty days passed
And forty days more,
We didn’t see a shore.

When you don’t have
A refrigerator
Some food’s going to rot.

In our final days,
We had no choice.
We ate beans a lot.

We continued on
And never turned back.
It was Ararat or bust.

The dove returned
With a single twig.
We stopped our water bus.

A mountain now
Up out of the sea,
We climbed to its crest.

So thankful we,
We minted our coins,
“In God we ever trust.”

And that’s the tale
Of long, long ago
When I was employed

Building a boat
Night after night
Being a bad bad boy.