OFFICIAL COVERS

VEGEMITE OF LOVE

REESE’S CUPS

A CHALUPA

PERFECT CAKE

CAN’T HELP FARTING IN LOUVRE

I’VE FONDUE UNDER MY SKIN

NEVER LASTING MUCH

YOUR USE OF PEPPER'S GETTING OUT OF HAND

FORTIFIED BUN

TAINTED MAC

HAPPINESS IS A WARM BUN

ISTHMUS (BABY, PLEASE DON’T CHOKE)

DRINKING PEAR JUICE

I AM THE WALMART

JUICY APPLE PIE WITH ALMONDS

I HAD HEAVED ON FATHER CHRISTMAS

POWER OF STRONG

DON'T BAKE YOUR BUNS TOO BROWN

CHEEZ WHIZ

CHICKEN AS A SUBSTITUTION

INSTANT PASTA!

THE FAINTS ARE COMING

BAGEL BITES

EAT ALL THE BRATS

KELP!

SCREAMING WITH HAIRS IN MY FRIES

POP SODA

INFLAMED CHARITY

WHAT'S GROWING ON

BITE AND PRAY

DON'T GIVE UP (BHUT JOLOKIA)

VEGEMITE OF LOVE

PARODY OF SATELLITE OF LOVE

Vegemite’s gone

Ate my supply

Things to list I’ll need

I write to remind

You say this stuff is pretty vile

It’s loved from Australia to NZ

Vegemite’s gone

Nothing in jars

Soon these toasts are filled

Just butter on ours

You say that stuff’s like Monkey bile

It’s loved from Australia to NZ

Vegemite of love

Vegemite

I have doled out yeast extract gold

With nary a care if gone

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday

With nary a care if gone

Vegemite’s gone

Ate my supply

Things to list I’ll need

I write to remind

You say this stuff

Smells of feces piled

It’s loved from Australia to NZ

Vegemite of love

Vegemite

B-SIDE (1992)

ORIGINAL BY LOU FEED

WRITTEN BY LOU FEED

ARRANGEMENT BY UCHEW

REESE’S CUPS

PARODY OF JESUS CHRIST

Well, Reese's...I'm a fan

It's my favourite candy brand

A great candy brand I crave

Well, when I get the itch

They're so good I'd want more

Well, I'd eat Reese's Cups to my grave

Peanut...peanut butter

Well, I'd eat Reese's Cups to my grave

Well, different sizes are featured

And I'd eat them all

As they taste all the same

Also, there's 'Limited Editions'

With variations & more

Well, I'd eat Reese's Cups to my grave

Peanut...peanut butter

Well, I'd eat Reese's Cups to my grave

When Reese's Cups came to town

All the chocolate bars around

No attention I did pay

Well, them Snickers

And 3 Musketeers

Now paled and taste like dross

Cuz these damn Reese's Cups

Were my fave

A fare so damn simple

Just a couple shades of brown

With chocolate overlayed

Well, these cups

I'd sell my soul for

In one sitting I'd inhale

Don't expect me to share

Well, I'd eat Reese's Cups

To my grave

Peanut...peanut butter

Well, I'd eat Reese's Cups

To my grave

Peanut...peanut butter

Well, I'd eat Reese's Cups to my grave

Well, lifelong I'm smitten

And wrote this ditty

Were I pitchman I'd preach

With heartfelt rave

Well, if Reese's were to reach

Me on the phone to hire me

Well, I'd push Reese's Cups to my grave

Peanut...peanut butter

Well, I'd push Reese's Cups to my grave

Peanut...peanut butter

Well, I'd push Reese's Cups to my grave

FROM THE COMPILATION ‘YOLKWAYS:

A SCISSION SHARED’ (1998)

ORIGINAL BY FOODIE GUTHRIE

WRITTEN BY FOODIE GUTHRIE

A CHALUPA

PARODY OF HALLELUJAH

Now I've heard there was a good place scored

That's rated great and it's won awards

But you don't really care for Mexican, do you?

Lunch goes like this: a fourth, a fifth

A diner full yet one more dish:

A stuffed full thing called

A chalupa

A chalupa, a chalupa

You ate headlong but your gut hits roof

You gnaw on thinking you're bustproof

The flautas and the Molotes overfed you

You guide yourself from the restaurant chair

A porcelain throne for your derriere

The handrails you grip due to

A chalupa

A chalupa, a chalupa

You say you've ordered them in vain

All the curse words you exclaim

Little children hid

Well...really...what's gotten in you?!

Your eyes they're glazed

An unholy rite you've now incurred

Just constant splatter is now heard

You've e. coli is the guess then

From a chalupa

A chalupa, a chalupa

You can't digest, you ate too much

You couldn't deal now handrails you clutch

Doesn't take a sleuth to see

That it just went through you

And even though it all went wrong

One day you'll say yes to coming along

And munching down soon on

A chalupa

A chalupa, a chalupa

A chalupa, a chalupa

FROM THE COMPILATION ‘POWER OF STRONG:

THE SPICY SONGS OF LEONARD COLDHEN’ (1995)

ORIGINAL BY LEONARD COLDHEN

WRITTEN BY LEONARD COLDHEN

PERFECT CAKE

PARODY OF PERFECT DAY

Just a perfect cake

Pink frosting with ripple marks

And made greater

With chocolate arcs

Take some home

Just a perfect cake

Feed some to me and to you

Or later

That's groovy, too

Take some home

Oh, it's such a perfect cake

I'm glad I ate it with you

Oh, it's such a perfect cake

We just keep on eating on

Just a perfect cake

Problem: can't leave alone

"So tender!"

We both moan

'Til there's none

Just a perfect cake

Can't just keep this to myself

I thought, "damn!

It's something else!

Something good!"

Oh, it's such a perfect cake

I'm glad I ate it with you

Oh, it's such a perfect cake

We just keep on eating on

We're going to eat just this, you know

Eat, eat, eat this thing whole

Eat, eat, eat this thing whole [repeat]

Oh, what a perfect cake

TAKEN FROM THE CHARITY SINGLE

‘FOR THE BBC CHILDREN IN NEED OF CAKE APPEAL’ (1997)

ORIGINAL BY LOU FEED
WRITTEN BY LOU FEED

CAN’T HELP FARTING IN LOUVRE

PARODY OF CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE

Eyes, they may

Squint with pools gushing

But I can’t help farting inside the Louvre

Ass gives way

Tried to keep it in

But I can’t help farting inside the Louvre

As my dinner flows

Quickly right through me

Plug my nose staring at a DaVinci

Wave my hand

Shake this program, too

For I can’t help farting inside the Louvre

FROM THE ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK:

‘HONEY MELON IN VEGAS’ (1992)

ORIGINAL BY ELVIS PARSLEY

WRITTEN BY GORGE WEISS, HUGE SPAGHETTI AND LINGUINI CREATORE

I’VE FONDUE UNDER MY SKIN

PARODY OF I’VE GOT YOU UNDER MY SKIN

I’ve fondue under my skin

I’ve hot cheese

Deep in the heart of me

So dip with a bread part

Or oil heat your meat

I’ve fondue under my skin

You’ve tried so not to give in

When I go the shelf set’s not there

I find it in ‘la poubelle’

But I don’t know why you resist

When, maybe you’d know so well

That I’ve fondue under my skin

One would think it’s nice to eat by candlelight

Or...for Pete’s sake...while having friends here

But...spiteful...you raise your voice

To say no outright and add

“Eat it right out of my rear!”

“Don’t you know, dear wife...

You’ve had too much gin!

Booze hound mentality!

Make up things dramatically!”

But each time I’ve fondue

Just a threat from you

Makes me stop before we begin…

You’ve not fondue under your skin

One should think things twice

Before they scream and fight

And forsake our relationship here

In spite of a chocolate choice

You’d not try a bite

You just meet my pout with a sneer

“Goes to show, Miss Uncool...

Shoulda married your twin!

Lose that mentality

Make it asap!”

Cuz each time I’ve fondue

Just a threat from you

Makes me stop before we begin…

You’ve not fondue under your skin

MAXI-SINGLE (1993)

WRITTEN BY COLD PORTER

FEATURING FRANKFURTER SINATRA

NEVER LASTING MUCH

PARODY OF EVERLASTING LOVE

Food thrown away disconcerts

Waste of dough

Tossed a fillet

Just expired weeks ago

Why did I get

That whole sack of honeydew?

Why did I get

A family size can of Irish Stew?!

I’ve been so unwise

Some things ill advised

Don’t eat what I buy

Never lasting much

Everything has dried

Carrots not even tried

Bread with mold inside

Never lasting much

Was not very smart

Buying Romaine hearts

Just to let them rot

Never lasting much

This food won’t last forever

Pears I must dispose

What’s this? I don’t know!

Check a jar with my nose

Never lasting much

Tomatoes off the vines

End up with wrinkly lines

They used to be fine

No BLT for lunch

When there’s odours that are strong

Ya know something’s wrong

Thanks to Oxygen

Never lasting much

This food won’t last forever

Rotten chicken thighs

Some freezer burned fries

Shaking my fist, “why?!!”

Never lasting much

Cede I could have cried

Took it all in stride

My fridge a tomb inside

Never lasting much

Filling up my cart

At the grocery mart

Everything I’ve bought

Never lasting much

Never lasting much

NON-ALBUM SINGLE (1989)

ORIGINAL BY CURLY ‘FRIES’ CURLTON

WRITTEN BY MAC ‘N. CHEESE’ GAYDEN

YOUR USE OF PEPPER'S GETTING OUT OF HAND

PARODY OF SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND

Well, it was plenty tears I've cried today

Your use of pepper's out of hand, I'd say

I've been going like it's out of style

And I'm guaranteed to be right here awhile

So let me disabuse of you

Of plans to hone and engineer

Your use of pepper's getting out of hand!

Your use of pepper's getting out of hand

The scope of heat employed breeds woe

Your use of pepper's getting out of hand

My crack's on fire and I'm grieving so

Your use of pepper's getting

Your use of pepper's getting out of hand!

It's wonderful to have 'sear'

It really is a thrill

But it brings horrific consequence

I think it may have blown my guts

I think they may be blown

I would really like to stop the glow

Of radiation that you may have bestowed

And this stinging's going to last so long

Why'd you have to make this thing so strong?!

No churning my gastric juice askew

And messing with all my gears

Your use of pepper's getting out of hand!

FROM THE IFUMES ONLY PROMO SINGLE (2005)

ORIGINAL BY THE MEATLES

WRITTEN BY JOHN LEAN-ON, PAUL MCCARTONEY

FEATURING PAUL MCCARTONEY

FORTIFIED BUN

PARODY OF FORTUNATE SON

Some folks will scorn

Finger wave and wag

Yeah, the bread they’ll eschew

Then their burger comes wrapped in lettuce leaf

Yeah, enriched flour’s not good for you

I don’t eat, I don’t eat

Is there nutrition there? None!

I don’t eat, I don’t eat

Don’t eat no fortified bun, no

“Some hoax!”, I mourn

Wonderbread tastes bland!

Watch ‘em fly off shelves, yeah

But fat, sugar and calories galore

Don’t look surprised when on a scale, yeah

I don’t eat, I don’t eat

Is there nutrition there? None!

I don’t eat, I don’t eat

Don’t eat no fortified bun, no

Some folks have merit

Whole grains are wise

Yeah, but you’ll spend a dollar more

And when you ask them

“How much crap you’ll forgive?”

Yeah, it’s always more, more, more!

I don’t eat, I don’t eat

Don’t eat anymore buns

I don’t eat, I don’t eat

Don’t eat no fortified bun

I don’t eat, I don’t eat

I’m thrilled that I’ve lost a ton

I don’t eat, I don’t eat

Don’t eat no fortified bun

B-SIDE (1992)

ORIGINAL BY CONDENSED CLEARWATER SURVIVAL

WRITTEN BY JOHN FOODGERTY

TAINTED MAC

PARODY OF PAINT IT BLACK

I ate at McDo’s

And I had a tainted Mac

My stomach is so sore

I fear that I will yak

I see my life flash by

Pressed up to the toilet bowl

My stomach’ll churn, I dread

Until my sickness goes

I am maligned for hours

Cuz I had a tainted Mac

It sours every part of

My intestinal tract

Bad meat must’ve been fed

I’m sickly

Look away!

My guts are torn, achy

I’m having a real bad day

Not cooked inside I bet

The meat was utter crap

My stomach is so sore

And I’ll paint the walls in yak

Doc looks inside my self

And sees my guts are whack

Says, “don’t eat any more

Goddamn tainted Macs!”

Maybe the pain’ll fade away

And not have these Mac Attacks

It’s not easy bracin’ up

When your immune system lacks

Those two all-beef patties,

Special sauce, onions,

Lettuce, cheese, pickles,

On a sesame seed bun

Why did I eat it?

Purging tainted Mac

Yak all night!

Why did I eat it?

Purging tainted Mac

Wracked me whole!

B-SIDE (1992)

ORIGINAL BY THE ROLLING PINS

WRITTEN BY NANKER PHELGE

HAPPINESS IS A WARM BUN

PARODY OF HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN

She’s not a girl who eats that much

Do, do, do, do, do, do...oh, no!

She’s not a girl who eats that much

Do, do, do, do, do, do...oh, no!

Feeling inferior: plumpy bum

Happiness is a warm bun

She’s well acquainted with those rolls

From the sandwich stand

Those cruel wizards

Dishing out weight gain

She can’t be endowed

With these multicellular errors

Buying all new suits

Going up a size

While her hands

Are slowly bloating over time

And with depression she must strife

Cuz she ate and created

Such an irrational fuss

She needs bread sticks

But she’ll gain a pound

Down she will get

Cuz she can’t wear her gown

She needs bread sticks

But she’ll wear a frown

Feeling inferior: plumpy bum

Happiness is a warm bun

She needs bread sticks

Oh, yeah!

She needs bread sticks

But she’ll gain a pound

Happiness is a warm bun

B-SIDE (1997)

ORIGINAL BY THE MEATLES

WRITTEN BY JOHN LEAN-ON, PAUL MCCARTONEY

ISTHMUS (BABY, PLEASE DON’T CHOKE)

PARODY OF CHRISTMAS (BABY, PLEASE COME HOME)

It’s Isthmus...

Baby, please don’t choke

Isthmus...

Don’t swallow it down

Isthmus...

I’m watching, appalled

Isthmus...

That’s some gristle you’ve found

Isthmus...

Baby, please don’t choke

Isthmus...

Your face swells profound

Isthmus...

Arms flailing along

Isthmus...

There’s a gurgling sound

Isthmus...

Baby, please don’t choke

The Heimlich I recall

Your throat’s blocked

With isthmus of fowl

I remember to push right here

Below the sternum until it’s cleared

Isthmus...

Pretty soon I’ll lodge free

Isthmus...

Man, something so benign

Isthmus...

You’re a bit purple, I see

Isthmus...

Baby, please don’t choke

Isthmus...

Baby, please don’t choke

The Heimlich I recall

Your throat’s blocked

With isthmus of fowl

I remember to push right here

Below the sternum until it’s cleared

Isthmus...

It’s cleared your airway

Isthmus...

The medics are here

Isthmus...

But I saved the day

Isthmus...

Baby, please don’t choke

FROM THE COMPILATION: A VERY SPECIAL ISTHMUS (1987)

ORIGINAL BY DARLEAN LOVE

WRITTEN BY JEFF BERRY, ELLIE GREENSANDWICH, AND FILL SPHINCTER

DRINKING PEAR JUICE

PARODY OF DANCING BAREFOOT

It was a prescription

It was directed I eat

It was a fruit restriction

But was too restricting for me

Cheer I showed though I can’t deny

Something done needlessly

Could it be I’m aching for some meat

I’m drinking pear juice

Needing vitamins

Some strange health kick

Cause I’ve been putting weight on

Now I’m dieting

It was saturation

It was making sense to me

It was concentrated

It was frozen maybe

Cheer I showed

Though I can’t deny

Something done needlessly

Could it be I’m aching for some meat

I’m drinking pear juice

Needing vitamins

Some strange health kick

Cause I’ve been putting weight on

Now I’m dieting

It was recantation

See, found I soon hated pear trees

It was a brief flirtation that

I was reinstating to eat

Cheer I showed though I can’t deny

Something done needlessly

Could it be I’m aching for some meat

I’m drinking pear juice

Needing vitamins

Some strange health kick

Cause I’ve been putting weight on

Now I’m dieting

Oh, God...I need some food

B-SIDE (1989)

ORIGINAL BY ‘BEEF’ PATTI SMITH

WRITTEN BY ‘BEEF’ PATTI SMITH & IVANILLA KRAL

I AM THE WALMART

PARODY OF I AM THE WALRUS

I am cheap as you are cheap

As you shop here

And we will save together

Save half on buns

Aisle 6 for your guns

Dog Chow? Aisle 5!

You're buying!

You want some eggs, man?

Here are some eggs, ma'am!

I am the Walmart

Goo goo g' joob

Getting box of Corn Flakes

Taking a desk fan for mum

Corporation subverts

Stupid cruddy unions

Man, we will just not employ you

If you say they belong

You want some drugs, ma'am?

Here are some drugs, ma'am!

I am the Walmart

Goo goo g' joob

Twizzlers candy

Tuna can for your kitty

Little kitsch gift set in a bow

See how you buy rhat movie with that guy

See how it's fun!

You're buying...

Buy...

Yellow off-brand mustard

Shipping in socks from Brunei

Men with walkers, housewives

Demographic success!

Boy, you're such a haughty girl

We've marked these Snickers down!

You want some guns, man?

Here are some guns, man!

I am the Walmart

Goo goo g' joob

Shopping in Homes & Gardens

Saving quite a sum

If later you come back with that fan

Refunding you isn't a big pain

You want some figs, man?

Here are some figs, man!

I am the Walmart

Goo goo g' joob, goo goo g' joob

Exert, inert

Stocking stockers

Don't you think the stocker laughs at you?

See how these aisles have eyes in the sky

See how you're spied!

You're buying!

Michelina's, Stouffer's...

Stymied with your buying power?

Supplementary income

Greeting our customers

Then you'll stay here and keep saving

Go far with that dough!

You want some Uggs, ma'am?

Here are some Uggs, ma'am!

I am the Walmart

Goo goo g' joob, goo goo g' joob

FROM THE ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK

‘I’D CROSS THE U.N. FOR WURST’ (2007)

ORIGINAL BY THE MEATLES

WRITTEN BY JOHN LEAN-ON, PAUL MCCARTONEY

JUICY APPLE PIE WITH ALMONDS

PARODY OF LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS

Picture your shelf with oats and goose liver

With cans of green peas and sourdough rye

Somebody’s walllet you look through it slowly

A girl with licorice rope eyes

Cellophaned sauerkraut below the beans

Towering over your head

Cooked sausage curl

Grab it but bump a pie

And it’s gone

Juicy apple pie with almonds

Swallow a brown thing

In fridge from a game hen

And choking...voice feeble...

Beat red with surprise

Everyone’s trial leaves them

Aghast and dour

They know they could’ve likely died

You taper the wheezing

Fear in your core

Quaking those frayed nerves away

Dying for a snack

Now there’s pie in your mouth

And it’s gone

Juicy apple pie with almonds

Stricture yourself all in vain at gas station

Give vending machine quarters

For snack small in size

Suddenly someone is there in the next aisle

A girl selling freshly baked pies

Juicy apple pie with almonds

FROM THE ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK

‘I’D CROSS THE U.N. FOR WURST’ (2007)

ORIGINAL BY THE MEATLES

WRITTEN BY JOHN LEAN-ON, PAUL MCCARTONEY

I HAD HEAVED ON FATHER CHRISTMAS

PARODY OF I BELIEVE IN FATHER CHRISTMAS

They said I threw up on Christmas

They said I ruined Santa's shirt

Now (with dread) at the shrink explaining

How they (for years) spoke of this with mirth

I remember when

Without warning

I felt not right

In one instant dire

Then last meal I expelled

Man, that vomity smell

Surprised Santa with my guts entire

They told me he screamed things un-Christian

They told me he was most forthright

They told me that I said, "I'm sorry!"

But they perceived he was not good with tykes

I had heaved on Father Christmas

He looked like a guy whom kids he despised

When I choked and spewed on

As the whole mall looked on

I covered him and his disguise

I wish you a barf-free Christmas

I wish you a conscience clear

No languished pain to suppress

Weigh on heart every goddamn year

They said I threw up on Christmas

They said I ruined Santa's shirt

Hallelujah...a hell

Which to a psychiatrist tell

When Christmas just gets on your nerves

NON-ALBUM CHARITY SINGLE (2008)

ORIGINAL BY EMULSION, CAKE & PALM OIL

WRITTEN BY PATE JOHN SINFIELD

MUSIC BY GREG CAKE, PATE JOHN SINFIELD, SURGE PROMOBEEF

POWER OF STRONG

PARODY OF TOWER OF SONG

Well, cayenne it on and compare the taste

You’ll make all the faces of bemused dismay

And I’m crazy proud of this new sauce I put on

Soon displaying assent with my faith

In the power of strong

I’ll spread on shanks of ham

Flames shooting from the spit

These shanks of ham are now a lethal threat

And I’ll hear you choking

All day long

Fall on all fours before me

From the power of strong

You are warned

That this will win ‘Top Choice’

You are warned

There’ll be swift need for drinks to foist

With twenty-seven spices that prize I’ll abscond

Hell supplied me to be able to sear

With the power of strong

Barely a nick of sizzle in all this subdued pall

I’m very sorry, lady...you can’t cook like me at all

Soon standing by a widow

When your spouse comes along

I regret mine’ll more than kill him

Hot in the power of strong

Hell’s brew

I’ve made with home grown peppers

The abyss these seeds procured

Bewitch this lot of panels

You may presume Force Majeure

Have God Almighty

Soon succumbing like a struck King Kong

You see there’s some prize money, trophies

In the power of strong

I’ll see you handling my sauce with some stride

This competition is blown open wide

Notify maybe your next of kin

When all the judges’s tongues’ burning

With one bite chance exhaust

No one is close to even winning

They have lost

I’ll never...

I’ll never have to lose one again!

So you did not foretell

That I would lay down the smack

Disapproving and in sorrow

Standing dour with no plaque

But no need jeering at me, lady

Conclusion’s foregone

Won’t be shrieking painfully...quid pro quo

With the power of strong

Well, cayenne it on and compare the taste

You’ll make all the faces of bemused dismay

And I’m crazy proud of this new sauce I put on

Soon displaying assent with my faith

In the power of strong

FROM THE ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK:

‘LEONARD COLDHEN: I'M YOUR MANWICH’ (2006)

ORIGINAL BY LEONARD COLDHEN

WRITTEN BY LEONARD COLDHEN

FEATURING LEONARD COLDHEN

DON'T BAKE YOUR BUNS TOO BROWN

PARODY OF DON'T TAKE YOUR GUNS TO TOWN

Guy employed by Pan-O-Gold

Sets off smoke alarm

Lack of skill earns the disgust

Of shift boss, Bill Ducharme

Bill interposed while he recomputes

And he gave him a dress down

Took the guy aside

And he talked away

"Don't bake your buns too brown

Don't bake your buns too brown

Don't bake your buns too brown"

The staff

In midst of baking bread

They're all pros save this man

Not astute nor quick

A hirsute 'lightweight'

With no attention span

But he's a big brute

Who's size drops jaws

That nobody'll take down

So boss once again said

Later that day

"Don't bake your buns too brown, son

Don't wanna send you home

Don't bake your buns too brown"

Well, he cranked out

His next bad batch then

Facepalms at burning pans

And he tried

He tried to tell himself

He's not going back to Spokane

The oven's black smoke

He tried to hide

Before anyone came around

But he heard again

His shift boss' words

"Don't bake your buns too brown, son

Don't wanna send you home

Don't bake your buns too brown

Don't bake your buns

Don't bake your buns too brown

Don't bake your buns

Don't bake your buns too brown"

Fiddled with gauge

His face aglow

Beseeched God with tears

Face raw

Heat exchangers

Turned his buns on fire

He couldn't find the flaw

At Pan-O-Gold he left the floor

The staff all gathered 'round

And wondered at his final words:

"Don't bake your buns too brown, son

Don't wanna send you home

Don't bake your buns too brown"

B-SIDE (2001)

ORIGINAL BY JOHNNY CASHEW

WRITTEN BY JOHNNY CASHEW

CHEEZ WHIZ

PARODY OF THIS IS

'Cheese' is at hand

In a cheap spray can

'Cheese' in a gold paste?

Wowed!

'Cheese' synthesized

With that good cheese flavour

Tasting very fattening...loud

'Cheese' that's embraced

By my teenage brother

'Cheese' that's a mild affair

'Cheese' that I'll dole out on some crackers

Serving for the guests as fare

'Cheese' I can mete out to famished children

And when I'm stuck I'll garnish stuff

If you close your eyes you'd be real surprised

Tasting will belie this goo

Everybody thinks it's so repealing

Embodies all that's very bland

This slop

This gook

That merchants are all vending

It comes in a jar or spray

'Cheese' that just seems less of a bother

In so many countless ways

I'll eat it piled in some french fries

Putting it on things I've made

'Cheese' that for years will last in shelters

This yellow bile when doom's above

Come Man's demise

You'll...

You'll take one bite and reapprise

Here with food

No one else but you

No one mooches my food

Nobody mooches like you

You...

Nobody mooches like you

But every girlfriend gets food

Every girlfriend sucks food down

This is the cheese

Of a famished boyfriend

And you’re a crook who takes

You eat off guys

You steal their french fries

That just ain’t right

But I sympathize

FROM ‘THE TRIBUTE FOR CHRISTY DIGHAM’ (2013)

ORIGINAL BY ASSLAN

WRITTEN BY CHRISTY DIGHAM

CHICKEN AS A SUBSTITUTION

PARODY OF CHILDREN OF THE REVOLUTION

La de dah la de dah de dah de dah

Well, they don’t seem to mind

If ‘hot’ you’re not inclined

Tell ‘em peanuts ‘leave out’

When you get take out

But they’ll refuse

No chicken as a substitution

No, that won’t do

For chicken as a substitution

No, no

Well, your rice can be plain

Shrimp-free Chow Mein

Veggie fried roll choice

‘Cause meat they won’t foist

But they’ll refuse

No chicken as a substitution

No, that won’t do

For chicken as a substitution

No, no

La de dah la de dah de dah dah dah

La de dah la de dah de dah de dah dah dah

La de dah la de dah de dah dah dah dah dah

La de dah la de dah

But they’ll refuse

No chicken as a substitution

No, they can’t do

Chicken as a substitution

No, they can’t do

Chicken as a substitution

No, no

No, they can’t do

No, no maybes

They will refuse chicken

No, no, you can try for the f-in’ time

They won’t say it’s alright

La de dah la de dah de dah dah dah

La de dah la de dah

De dah de dah de dah dah

FROM THE ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK

‘MILLET ROUGE’ (2001)

ORIGINAL BY TEA REX

WRITTEN BY MARC BOWLAN

FEATURING MAURICE SELTZER & GAVIN ‘T.G.I’ FRIDAY

INSTANT PASTA!

PARODY OF INSTANT KARMA!

Instant pasta's gonna feed you

Gonna suck but might get you fed

Better get some bread and butter

Pity, soon you'll want that instead

What in the world were you thinking, love?

Choosing to embrace that stuff?!

It's not worth it

Buying canned goop

A cup of goop ain't food!

Instant pasta's gonna feed you

Gonna grab a bite and keep pace

But your gut's under the weather

Snarling

Don't like your rat race!

What in the world you gonna eat?

Nuking Chef Boy-ar-dee?!

For dessert you pull from a drawer

A candy bar!

Yeah, that'll go far

Well, we all whine on

Of these doomed lives of ours

On the run

Well, we all whine on

On and on and on

Instant pasta's gonna get you

Arteries blocked and wider seat

Better you revise, says mother

Everything you eat

How in the world ya end up here?

A life of microwaves?!

3 Musketeers?!

Where you just don't care

About your lunch fare!

Well, we all whine on

Of these doomed lives of ours

On the run

Well, we all whine on

On and on and on

Well, we all whine on

Of these doomed lives of ours

On the run

Well, we all whine on

On and on and on

Whine on

And on and on and on and on

FROM THE COMPILATION ‘INSTANT PASTA!:

THE CHEF BOY-AR-DEE CAMPAIGN TO SAVE DARFUR 50 CENTS

ON THEIR NEXT PURCHASE OF A 425G CAN OF BEEFARONI’ (2007)

ORIGINAL BY JOHN LEAN-ON

WRITTEN BY JOHN LEAN-ON

THE FAINTS ARE COMING

PARODY OF THE SAINTS ARE COMING

There is a house smells of latrines

I’m appalled at what they’ve done

It’s been all ruined

Beyond destroyed

Oh, God

I’ll kill someone

There’s dried meat patties

I think were thrown

How wrong now!

Can’t figure how the walls

Drip with beer foam

From the vents!

And there’s bread dough

On the window panes

Like cement!

I pried off some candy

From the carpet...sown

How wrong now!

The spills of crowds took toll

Where they’ve all roamed

Malcontents!

There’s a Volvo

Through a wall in the basement

What torment!

The faints are coming

The place is splattered!

A pig sty!

Those @$#% guys

Sealed their demise!

The faints are coming

What is that matter gone awry?!

It burns my eyes!

How I could cry!

“No longer up to code,”

Says the Fire Chief

What’s wrong now?

Those damn kids

Strangely filled the house with beef

Having a cow!

The skylight’s been Spammed

Compounds belief!

Furrowed brow!

The faints are coming

There’s pancake batter

And some Thai

I can’t execise from my bonsais

The faints are coming

Shrimp trays just scattered!

I ask why?!!!

To these guys rent was unwise

Shrimp trays just scattered

I ask why?!!!

To these guys rent was unwise

Shrimp trays just scattered

I ask why?!!!

To these guys rent was unwise

FROM THE COMPILATION: ‘18 SINGLE SERVINGS’ (2006)

WRITTEN BY THE FOOD SKIDS

FEATURING GREEN FACE

BAGEL BITES

PARODY OF NEON LIGHTS

Bagel Bites

Simmering Bagel Bites

And at the mid of night

These bitty snacks delight

Bagel Bites

Simmering Bagel Bites

And under the oven light

So pretty, a gorgeous sight

Bagel Bites

Simmering Bagel Bites

And ease they just might

My pityful appetite

Bagel Bites

Simmering Bagel Bites

My willpower I can’t fight

Such little things excite

B-SIDE (2004)

ORIGINAL BY KRAFT DINNER

WRITTEN BY FLORIAN SCHNEIDER-ESLEBEAN, KARL BARTOAST & RALF PUKER

EAT ALL THE BRATS

PARODY OF BEAT ON THE BRAT

1-2-3-4

Eat all the brats

Filled with appalling fat

Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!

Oh, no!

Eat all the brats

Man boobs instead of lats

Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!

Oh, no!

Bratwurst consumed

Vital stats like that

Arteries clogged with plaque

You’re turning blue!

Bratwurst consumed

I’m concerned that may be a heart attack

You’re turning blue!

Eat all the brats

Til your pants you’ve shat

Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!

Oh, no!

Eat all the brats

Til death you combat

Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!

Oh, no!

FROM THE COMPILATION

‘WE’RE A HUNGRY FAMILY: A TRIBUTE TO RAMENS’ (2003)

ORIGINAL BY THE RAMENS

WRITTEN BY JOEY RAMENS

KELP!

PARODY OF HELP!

Kelp

I need to eat healthy

Kelp

Good for my body

Kelp

You know I'd feed on some

Kelp...

When I've had hunger

So much hunger like today

I never needed anything

Like Kelp in any way

But now those days are gone

I made myself mature

Now I find I've changed my mind

And bought some at the store

Kelp me

Whether tan or a deep brown

Cuz I now appreciate it and come around

Kelp me cuz I can eat some by the pound

Won't you please

Please, Kelp me

And now my diet's changed

In oh so many ways

My iodine deficiency

Now was just a phase

But every now and then

It tastes like horse manure

But know that I just eat it

Even if it's washed up ashore

Kelp me

Whether tan or a deep brown

Cuz I now appreciate it and come around

Kelp me cuz I can eat some by the pound

Won't you please

Please, Kelp me

When I've had hunger

So much hunger like today

I never needed anything

Like Kelp in any way

But now those days are gone

You can rest assured

Now I find I've changed my mind

And seaweed no longer abhor

Kelp me

Wether tan or a deep brown

Cuz I now appreciate it and come around

Kelp me cuz I can eat some by the pound

Won't you please

Please, Kelp me

Kelp me

Kelp me...

FROM THE COMPILATION: THE EUKARYOTE RIGHTS CONCERTS

—A PHAEOPHYCEAE OF NOPE (1984)

ORIGINAL BY THE MEATLES

WRITTEN BY JOHN LEAN-ON, PAUL MCCARTONEY

SCREAMING WITH HAIRS IN MY FRIES

PARODY OF DREAMING WITH TEARS IN MY EYES

My heart is longing for food, lunch

I cared for food more then you knew

Though you have spoken with promise

Right away screams are resumed

Atone, I'll be yearning for sorrow

When hotline brings managers to rue

My frown lines will turn into ‘furrowed’

As I scream of the lunch I once chewed

Why should it always be irksome

When money for food disfranchise

While pilose, with recrudesce, finger

I'm screaming with hairs in my fries

Why did you promise me free tarts

Just then to leave you alone

Well, you’ll pay online when graded

Your lunch was just viewed with my phone

Atone, I'll be yearning tomorrow

When hotline brings managers to rue

My frown lines will turn into ‘furrowed’

As I scream of the lunch I once chewed

Why should it always be irksome

When money for food disfranchise

While pilose, with recrudesce, finger

I'm screaming with hairs in my fries

THE SONGS OF SLIM JIMMIE RODGERS: A TRIBUTE (2004)

ORIGINAL BY SLIM JIMMIE RODGERS

WRITTEN BY BREADY DE LANGE, IRVING MEALS, SWILL HUDSON

POP SODA

PARODY OF POP MUZIK

New Coke, Lemon Pepsi Cola

Everybody talk about pop soda

Pop pop pop pop soda

Pop pop pop pop pop soda

Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop soda...

Shoobie doobie drink pop

Pop pop shoo pop

7 Up or Faygo

Drinking up a whole case

Not giving up my Fresca

Sucralose has replaced

Sugar for our sake

Aspartame won't partake

Try some

Buy some

Canada Dry

Pour some!

Talk about pop soda

Drink at the Quick Mart

Have pop on a jet plane

Bargain on Royal Crown

I'm having Shasta again

If you wanna be a pop slinger

Call me a rum bringer

Eenie meenie miny moe

Let the carbonation flow

Talk about pop soda

Pop soda

Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop soda...

B-SIDE (1997)

ORIGINAL BY MMMMM

WRITTEN BY ROBIN ALMOND SCOTT

INFLAMED CHARITY

PARODY OF UNCHAINED MELODY

Oh, my Lord

Oh, I’m starving

I’ve hungered so damn much

I long for some swine

And I’m posed by Sally Struthers

And I loathe her so much

How well she dines!

Can’t feed on love

Gawd, feed my ass some meat

Charity givers fall for her plea

For her plea

For the flabby arms of her plea

Charity givers, I’d

Trade for meat

Tell b*tch on the phone

I’d trade for meat

Oh, my Lord

Oh, I’m starving

I’ve hungered so damn much

I long for some swine

And I’m posed by Sally Struthers

And I loathe her so much

How well she dines!

Can’t feed on love

Gawd, feed my ass some meat

Feed us meat

Gawd, feed my ass some meat

Can’t feed on love

B-SIDE (1989)

ORIGINAL BY THE RIGHTEOUS SMOTHERS

WRITTEN BY EXLAX NORTH & HYGIENE ZARET

WHAT'S GROWING ON

PARODY OF WHAT’S GOING ON

Shudder, shudder

There's too many things decomposing

Bothered, bothered, bothered

There's far too many fruits that're dying

You know I've got to find a way

To stop from tossing food all day

Fodder, fodder

I do need to excavate

And spores no laughing matter

For only I can conquer waste

You know I've got to find a way

To stop from tossing food all day

Quickly taking stock of decay

Such rubbish warrants frugality

Shock to me

That I can see what's growing on

What's growing on

Fodder, fodder

Everything here stinks,

It's strong

There's goo instead of fudge, nuts

Forget if that's Egg Foo Yong

You know I've got to find a way

To stop from tossing food all day

Quickly taking stock of decay

Such rubbish warrants frugality

Shock to me

That I can see what's growing on

What's growing on

What's growing on [repeat]

FROM THE CHARITY SINGLE ‘WHAT'S GROWING ON:

ALL STAR TRIBUTE TO BENEFIT THE BLIGHTED FRIDGE FUND

AND ARTISTS DISPENSE CLEANING AIDS WORLDWIDE’ (2001)

ORIGINAL BY STARVIN’ GAYE

WRITTEN BY RENALDO BEANSON, AL CLEAVERLAND, STARVIN’ GAYE

FEATURING CHRIS MARTINI

BITE AND PRAY

PARODY OF NIGHT AND DAY

Like a time bomb

You buy at a hot dog stall

Like you're sick, sick, sick

From a celery stalk

From the grocery store at the mall

Like the strips, strips, strips

Of cheap pork chops

That's seems all sinew

So your choice

Paid dearly

Paints the ceiling

Spew...spew...spew

Bite and pray

Nothing you'll shun

Only you would eat fish strewn

With deadly poison

Whether near to death or far

Hope the latter, baby

Au revoir

You try 'Fugu'

Bite and pray

Pray and bite

Why escargo?!

There's no logic I can swallow

Endeavoured like so

In ignoring tragic doom

In the past tense

You'll be pretty soon

Scorpion stew?!!

Bite and pray

Undercooked side of meat

Though you are hungry

Turn it

Burn it to a set degree

This prevents infected food

And you won't end your life

Eating toxins, fool

Pray and bite

Bite and pray

Bite and pray

Bite, bite, bite and pray

Bite and pray...

TAKEN FROM THE COMPILATION

‘RED HOT + BREW: A TRIBUTE TO COLD PORTER’ (1990)

WRITTEN BY COLD PORTER

DON'T GIVE UP

(BHUT JOLOKIA)

PARODY OF DON'T GIVE UP (AFRICA)

LYRICS TO COME

CHARITY SINGLE (2005)

MUSIC/LYRICS BY PATE GABRIEL

FEATURING ALICIA SMOKEYS

BAGGIE'S HARMED/

OLD TURKEY

PARODY OF MAGGIE'S FARM*/COLD TURKEY†

It ain't gonna work, this baggie's harmed…no more!

Said it ain't gonna work, this baggie's harmed…no more!

Well, it's no use for storing

It would be in vain

Won't hold your bread or tortillas

That you're striving to contain

It's a shame that it's the last one you've in store

Yeah, it ain't gonna work

This baggie's harmed…no more!

It ain't gonna work, this baggie's broken...no more!

Said it ain't gonna work, this baggie's broken...no more!

Well, it costs you a nickel

But now ain't worth a dime

You'll need your credit card

It might be shopping time

It's a shame but you'll need to go back to the store

It ain't gonna work, this baggie's broken…no more!

No more, no more, no more, no more, no more!

Situation apprising

Endeavour to try

Could plastic be sutured?

Is duct taping worth a try?

Get inside your Chevy

To the store head

Buy a pack of 80

Pack of 40 instead?

Old turkey

Bags to freeze?

I'll need some!

It ain't gonna work, this baggie's harmed...no more!

Said it ain't gonna work, this baggie's harmed...no more!

Got more, got more, got more, got more…no more!

It ain't gonna work, this baggie's harmed...no more!

TAKEN FROM THE COMPILATION

‘CHIVE FOR IRELAND (CONCERT FOR SHELF-AID)’ (1986)

*WRITTEN BY BOB DILL-AN

†WRITTEN BY JOHN LEAN-ON

RESET