Song Gone Wrong

In honor of the King of Pop and the Dodge Daytona I had back in college:

(To the tune of “Billie Jean” by Michael Jackson)

I parked my car up under a tree,
‘Round about at three
Some guy walked up and said he can see
I’ve got nice wheels
That I parked – On the curb – Down the block
He said I’ve got nice wheels
That I parked – On the curb – Down the block

A flock of robins from Tennessee
Flew in real early
They landed right in that oak that stood
Over my wheels
That I parked – On the curb – Down the block

People always told me
Be careful where you park
Don’t park up under the leaves at night
And Mama always told me
To keep it off the street
And be careful of the birds
That are waiting in the dark

Hey, hey, hey

Stupid birds crapped on my car
A couple thousand of them bombed out my wheels
Now my paint is gonna peel
Those birds bombed out my wheels
Now my paint is gonna peel

Up the next morning I saw the spots
The sun was getting hot
Dryin’ out fast like a plaster cast
I was aghast
‘Cause I parked – On the curb – Down the block
Now if only I’d thought
And remembered to park in the lot

A robin still sittin’ up in that tree
Looked right down at me
Then dropped another right on my hood
I’d scream if I could
Where I parked – On the curb – Down the block

People always told me
Be careful where you park
Don’t park up under the leaves at night
It’s just like a Hitchcock movie
And the robins dropped the boom
I’m cryin’ in my room
My sweet paint job is doomed

Hey, hey, hey

Stupid birds crapped on my car
A couple thousand of them bombed out my wheels
Now my paint is gonna peel
Stupid birds crapped on my car
A couple thousand of them bombed out my wheels
Now my paint is gonna peel
Those birds bombed out my wheels
Now my paint is gonna peel
Those birds bombed out my wheels
Now my paint is gonna peel
Stupid birds crapped on my car
A couple thousand of them bombed out my wheels
Now my paint is gonna peel
Those birds bombed out my wheels
Now my paint is gonna peel
Those birds bombed out my wheels
I just know it’s gonna peel
Those birds bombed out my wheels
Stupid birds crapped on my car
Stupid birds crapped on my car
Stupid birds crapped on my car
Stupid birds crapped on my car
Stupid birds crapped on my car
Stupid birds crapped on my car

© 2009 by Stacy Clifford

(To the tune of “Taking Care of Business” by Bachman-Turner Overdrive)

You boot up every morning
Get a virus warning
Then you download spam to your inbox
Outlook says you’ve got an error
And you’ve got that look of terror
You can’t send, you’ll have to use FedEx
‘Cause when the screen says no
You can’t get your mail to go
You call your local geek and start to pray
And if you think that you’re annoyed
Just wait ‘til I am deployed
I love to work at nothing all day!

And I’ll be
Taking care of Windows
Every day!
Taking care of Windows
Every way!
I’ve been taking care of Windows
Up all night!
Taking care of Windows
Formatting your hard drive,
Reboot!

When you’re installing your program
And the wizard says no ma’am
You’ve got to find your Windows CD
Now you know that you’re in Hell
There’s a missing DLL
And the disk is low on virtual memory
People say that you’re obscene
When you’re cursing at the screen
Tell them that the geek’s on his way
But it’s you that we avoid
Because we know what you’ve destroyed
You’ve gone through three computers since May!

And we be
Taking care of Windows
Every day!
Taking care of Windows
Every way!
I’ve been taking care of Windows
Up all night!
Taking care of Windows
Formatting your hard drive,
Reboot!

Take good care of your Windows
Run your update, then sit and wait
Wooo!

Now your screen has turned bright blue
And you don’t know what to do
All you did was try to open up Quake
You give the three-fingered salute
And yet still it won’t reboot
And the geek is out on his lunch break
So when the boss asks why
Your fourth hard drive is fried
You jump right up and blame Bill Gates
Maybe you should get a Mac
Before you have a heart attack
In Macintosh salvation awaits!

But we’ll be
Taking care of Windows
Every day!
Taking care of Windows
Every way!
I’ve been taking care of Windows
Up all night!
Taking care of Windows
Formatting your hard drive!

Takin’ care of Windows
Takin’ care of Windows
Takin’ care of Windows
Takin’ care of Windows
Takin’ care of Windows…

© 2009 by Stacy Clifford

He’s gonna blast off
He’s gonna fly high
He’s headin’ far out
I’m tellin’ you why
Santa Claus is going to Mars!

He’s loading his ship
He’s counting down twice
Santa knows astronauts really are nice

Santa Claus is going to Mars!
He sees you when you’re weightless
He knows when you’re in space
He knows if you’ve left Earth orbit
He can reach you any place!

Oh!  He’s gonna blast off
He’s gonna fly high
He’s headin’ far out
I’m tellin’ you why
Santa Claus is going to Mars!

© 2009 by Stacy Clifford

(To the tune of “Yesterday” by the Beatles)

Runny nose, all day long congestion comes and goes
Out of Kleenex now this really blows
I really hate my runny nose.

Sudafed, take two right now and go to bed
Feels like cotton stuffing in my head
Oh, I’m in love with Sudafed.

Why there’s so much snot I don’t know, it’s like a hose
I sniffed goldenrod, now I’ve got a runny nose.

Runny nose, feeling crappy right down to my toes
Took some Nyquil now I’m gonna doze
I really hate my runny nose.

Mm mm mm ah ah ah-choo!

© 2009 by Stacy Clifford

(To the tune of “Take It Easy” by the Eagles)

Well I’m a headin’ out to lunch,
Stomach’s rumblin’ a bunch,
I got seven tacos on my mind,
Four with guacamole,
Two refried frijoles,
One with jalapeño rinds.

Make it cheesy, make it cheesy,
Because you know I like my Tex-Mex
Kinda greasy.
Load it up with real hot sauce
And then you’ll show that plate who’s boss,
A few more years of life are lost,
But make it cheesy.

Well I’m dodgin all my exes
In downtown Houston, Texas,
Starvin’ until I see
A burrito stand in a big box van,
Rollin’ down the street an’ right towards me.

A chalupa, with a scoop ‘a
Sour cream and refried beans
Oughta do ya.
We may regret what we ate,
‘Cause it’s a heart attack on a plate,
But open up and masticate
And make it cheesy.

Well I’m a headin’ out to lunch,
Stomach’s rumblin’ a bunch,
I got beef tamales on my mind,
Lotsa chips ‘n queso
And peppers if I say so,
In Jersey that’s hard to find.

Make it cheesy, make it cheesy,
Because you know I like my Tex-Mex
Kinda greasy.
A chalupa, with a scoop ‘a
Sour cream and refried beans
Oughta do ya.

Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh,
Oh we got it cheesy,
We oughta make it cheesy…

© 2009 by Stacy Clifford