| FEELIN'
ITCHY
[To the tune of Makin'
Whoopie]
Another night / Another day
A sweet temptation / Leads
me astray
Won't follow orders / He's
drop dead gorgeous
I'm feelin' itchy
Another date / Another fling
Another bimbo / On a string
Around his finger / They
never linger
I'm feelin' itchy
His picture is in the desk
drawer
I study it by the hour
Friday I went home early
And jumped in an ice cold
shower
Another tumble /Another bed
Another daydream / Inside
my head
I'm snooping solo / He's
playing polo
I'm feelin' itchy
He's William Powell / I'm
Myrna Loy
The case is solv-ed / But
still no joy
Can't turn that corner /
Or I'm a goner
Still feelin' itchy
-- Lauryn
/ August 2001
LAUR--A,
LAUR--A! (SHE'S GOT TONY AND STEELE!)
[To the tune of "New York,
New York" (From "On The Town")]
Laur--a, Laur--a!
Laur--a, Laur--a!
Laur--a, Laur--a!
She’s got Tony and Stee-------le!
Laura, Laura! she's sandwiched
between,
Polpettone and some Irish
beef, lean
She’d eat both pieces but
it’s just not her scene
Laur--a, Laur--a!
She’s got Tony and Stee-------le!
He paid a hooker to save
his alabaster, flawless, spot-free skin
She stopped the marriage
because he didn’t ask her, it was a mortal sin
But at last they were wed
And both wanted that shag
in the bed. Would the phone ring?
Laura, Laura! she's sandwiched
between,
Polpettone and some Irish
beef, lean
She’d eat both pieces but
it’s just not her scene
Laur--a, Laur--a!
She’s got Tony and Stee-------le!
He swung from a vine in the
jungle to save her (aping Michael D)
A finer mullet you wouldn’t
find in Dixie (especially Tennessee)
He chased after Steele but
he had sex appeal, would she fall
For vanity?
Laura, Laura! she's sandwiched
between,
Polpettone and some Irish
beef, lean
She’d eat both pieces but
it’s just not her scene
Laur--a, Laur--a!
She’s got Tony and Stee-------le!
Confusion reigned and it
wasn’t always pretty, to see the anti-Steele
He had no friends but he
had a decent body, and Tony would reveal
A huge bicep or two, maybe
flash a tattoo for the dame
To have a feel
Laura, Laura! she's sandwiched
between,
Polpettone and some Irish
beef, lean
She’d eat both pieces but
it’s just not her scene
Laur--a, Laur--a!
Laur--a, Laur--a!
Laur--a, Laur--a!
She’s got Tony and Stee-------le!
--Paris Match
/ August 27, 2001
I'VE
GROWN ACCUSTOMED TO HIS FACE
[Steele reflects on life
with Murphy, to the tune of the same name from “My Fair Lady.”]
I've grown accustomed to
his face
It's twice as common as
a cold
I've grown accustomed to
the way
He greets me every day
His frowns, his stares, his
threats, his glares
Are second nature to me
now
As I arrive promptly at
noon
I read the headlines I've
been making
While he quickly scans the
Sports
Laura pokes her head in
For those autopsy reports
I've grown accustomed to
the lad
In different shades of plaid
Accustomed to his face
I've grown accustomed to
his face
Though we are working as
a team
Removing Creighton Phillips
From the scene is only just
A temporary truce
From o-ur mutual distrust
I've grown accustomed to
the fact
He'd like my suitcase packed
Accustomed to his face.
-- Lauryn
/ August 26, 2001
SINGING
IN THE RAIN
[All to "Singing In The
Rain"]
Bernice’s Song
I’m spitting in his tea,
just spitting in his tea
And if the mood takes me
I’ll throw it at him,
A rat and a fink
He belongs in the clink
So I’m spitting, just spitting
in his tea.
Murphy’s Song
I’m dreaming of tape, just
dreaming of tape
I’ll go down the store and
Get some for his mouth
I’ll wind him up tight
Shoot him? I just might
But I’m dreaming, just dreaming
of tape
Laura’s Song
He’s driving me nuts, just
driving me nuts
He teases my senses
And makes my skin hot
Mmmm. Hairy chest
Pressed to my breast,
He’s driving, just driving
me nuts!
Steele’s Song
I’m so bloody good, just
so bloody good
I look in the mirror
And I’m glad that I’m me
These strong manly lines
This face? So divine
So bloody, just so bloody
good!
-- Paris Match/
August 26, 2001
ABIGAIL’S
LAMENT
[To the tune of "I'm Tired"
from "Blazing Saddles."]
I'm tired!
Tired of having these rows.
When will I hear wedding
vows?
I'm so-o-o ti-i-i-red!
I'm tired!
Tired of cleaning her sink.
Finding out she's in the
clink!
I'm so-o-o ti-i-i-red!
She's dated dozens of men.
Well, at least nine or ten,
she's so hard to please!
Just when I
think that she's landed
a big one
I find out it's catch and
release! Oy!
I'm tired!
Why can't she marry her
boss?
Or teach some patients to
floss?
I'm so-o-o ti-i-ired!
I'm tired!
Tired of knowing I've failed
her.
I think I need my inhaler.
I'm so-o-o tired!
She's a licensed PI
though I'll never know why,
she was very insistent.
What's wrong with com-mun-ity
college
and being a dental assistant?
I'm tired!
She wants me out of her
hair.
I have to pay cab fare!
I'm so-o-o ti-i-ired!
I'm tired!
Of looking through personals
ads
for mawwiage-able med school
grads.
I'm so-o-o ti-i-i-red!
Does she think good looking
guys
with accents to die for
fall in her path?
I know that
she could be Mrs. Steele
if she'd use sex appeal.
You do the math!
I'm tired!
Tired of scrubbing her grout.
Can there be any doubt?
I'm so-o-o ti-i-ired!!
I'm tired!
I need a little romance.
Give me the South of France!
I'm so ti-i-ired!!
-- Lauryn
/ August 31, 2002
STEELE
IN THE FAMILY
[To the TV theme of “All
In The Family”]
RS: Boy, the plaid
shirts Murphy wore.
LS: And Felicia?
What a wh*re.
RS: Creighton Phillips
was a boor!
RS & LS: Those
were the days.
LS: Cell phones bigger
than my bust
RS: Red suspenders
were a must
LS: Disco music bit
the dust
RS & LS: Those
were the days.
RS & LS: And you
knew J.R Ewing’s yen, Taco Bell? De rigeur then.
LS: Mister, we could
use a man like Tony Danza again.
RS: You and your
Italians. Will the torment never end?
LS: Tony R? We were
just friends.
RS & LS: Those
were the days.
RS: Custom made suits
every week
LS: And my shirt-dress?
Tres, tres chic.
RS: Ah, nouvelle
cuisine. Take out a loan for that weekly treat,
LS: Friendly, neighbourhood
psychos. Descoine, Randi. Evil foes.
RS & LS: Twenty
years of highs and lows. Those Were The Days.
-- Paris Match/
September 4, 2002
STEELE
[To the theme from Shaft]
Who's the black-Irish dick
that usetah steal stuff
with lotsa chicks?
STEELE!
Ya damn right!
Who’s the former crook
that would risk his neck
for his brother crook?
STEELE!
Can you dig it?
Who's the cat that won't
cop out
When there's a free lunch
all about?
STEELE!
Right On!
They say this cat Steele
is a well-tailored muthah
SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
I'm talkin' 'bout Steele.
THEN WE CAN DIG IT!
He's a complicated man
And no one understands him
but his secretary
And maybe his driver
And reporters who can make
him look good in print
And former partners in crime
And, very occasionally,
his associate
R. STEELE!
-- Susannah/
January 16, 2004
WHEN
I MARRY MISTER STEELE
[to the tune of "When
I Marry Mister Snow" from "Carousel."]
When I marry Mr. Steele
Everyone will marvel that
our troth was plighted.
Mother will be mum 'cause
she was not invited.
When I marry Mr. Steele.
To the office we will go
Clients all and sundry making
book on whether
we'd decided from the first
to sleep together.
When I marry Mr. Steele
He'll carry me 'cross the
threshold
I'll fight him each step
of the way
We'll end up on the floor
I can't show you any more
What would Standards and
Practices say?
When I marry Mr. Steele
There will be no shortage
of housewarming gifts
Handmade sets of lockpicks
labeled hers and his (Must be from your side.)
When I marry Mr. Steele
We'll be honeymooning in
the Fijian Isles
Or someplace where it's
clothing optional for miles
Where the palms sway in
the breeze.
When I marry Mr. Steele
Bernice will say "congrats"
and that she's really wowed.
The question of the day
-- "is the groom well-endowed?"
I'll insinuate -- and how!
(give her the big picture)
When I marry Mr. Steele
Mildred will declare that
it was time we clicked
Murphy will ring up to say
he's worried sick
That I'm stuck with Mr.
Steele
That underhanded, incognito-ed
Budget-busting, big libido-ed
Con man Mr. Steele!
-- Lauryn
/ March 13, 2004
I CAN'T
GET LAID
[To the tune of "I Cain't
Say No" from "Oklahoma." ]
It's not so much a question
of not knowing what to do.
I've left women devastated
by my charms.
You've read the gossip columns
I assure you, they are true.
Females end up horizontal
in my arms.
But every rule has an exception,
I'll admit.
My sex life is now turning
into shit.
I'm just a guy who can't
get laid.
I'm in a terrible fix.
Just when I think I've got
it made
Laura will always say nix.
Business before pleasure
is her quirk.
A moonlit beach in Maui
makes her brood.
She'd stay buried in her
paperwork
if I strolled past her cabana
in the nude.
I'm just a guy who can't
get laid
What can I do to entice?
Psychiatrists who want to
aid
line up to give me advice
After office hours I nurse
the hope
that we might just get sometime
to ourselves.
How was I to know she'd
answer "nope"
to rush home to the loft
to line her shelves?
I'm just a guy who can't
get laid
These are the cards I've
been dealt.
I want the woman to melt,
unlock her chastity belt
I can't get laid!
-- Lauryn
/ December 4, 2005
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