Weird Judy
Here are parodies of a few of my favorite St. Vincent songs:
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if MASSEDUCTION was about cooking?
MASHED POTATOES
Black pepper, salty lady
Cookin’ crock pot sole
A punk chef romantic
Lumped on the kitchen floor
Buns in stress position
Smokin’ oregano
Onions are weeping
Bacon is beautiful
Mashed Potatoes
I can’t turn off the Frigidaire
Mashed Potatoes
Don’t forget the chives and cream
Mashed Potatoes
I hold you like a spatula
Mashed Potatoes
Don’t turn off the Cuisinart
Mashed Potatoes
I’ll slice you in the frying pan
Mashed Potatoes
Stirrin’ skillet omelette
Angry apple strudel
Flippin’ fluffy pancakes
Snarfin’ on a pub crawl
Olive oil, extra virgin
Holding out our tongs
What’s taters, precious
Fallin’ on diner rugs
Mashed potatoes
I’ll hold you like a wet sponge
Mashed potatoes
I can’t turn off the stovetop
Mashed Potatoes
Oh, what a bore to be a herbivore
Oh, what a chore to cook for a brontosaur
Mashed potatoes
I can’t churn up what turns me on
Mashed potatoes
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if FEAR THE FUTURE was about medical issues?
FEAR THE SUTURE
When my spleen splits in two
Eye was eye, you were blue
Run for the loo
You’ve got the flu
When my wart chose to swell
And my arches both fell
I run for the loo
I’ve got it too
Come on, Doc
Cough up your answer
Come on, Doc
Take out my catheter
Oh sis, go barf over yonder
Come on, Doc
Just give me a bandage
I fear the suture
Then I stub my fat toe
Hole on top of my skull
Now I’ve got two, what can I do?
When the snot starts anew
Take my meds, hide my gloom
Nurse, get a clue, you’ll get it too
Rue for me too
WEIRD JUDY wonders—what if KROKODIL was about dentistry?
CROOKED SMILE
It’s hard to bite
With my Crooked Smile, ile, ile, ile
Never flossed my gums
Ate lots of sweets
Never had good hygiene
I’m scared of a root canal
For my bleeding teeth!
Oh, my overbite
Deep cavity, ty, ty, ty
Oh, my overbite
Orthodontist, tist, tist, tist
Spit out then you’ll drink
Damn nerves, damn Novocain
I never felt so numb
But I’ll mourn for the loss
Of my jagged teeth!
Oh, my cross bite
Sharp bicuspid, pid, pid, pid
Oh, my cross bite
Gingivitis, tis, tis, tis
Then my gums start to sting
Don’t worry they’ll feel so clean
Never had whitening
Shiny white crowns for
My crooked teeth!
I start to cry
I see your saber teeth, eeth, eeth, eeth
For now I know
You’re Dracula, la, la, la!
Oh!
WEIRD JUDY and the ANNIE CAN DANCE fan band wonder: What if CHEERLEADER was about liquor?
BEER DRINKER
I’ve had good brews
In some bad pubs
I’ve drank whole steins
That were half foam
Mixed your dark malt
With my pale ale
I’ve drank shots
Then barfed my pilsner
I don’t like the light beer you serve
So I poured the keg in the dirt
But I-I-I-I-I don’t wanna be a beer drinker no more
I-I-I-I-I don’t wanna be a beer drinker no more
I’ve swilled lager
When I wanted brandy
Tried Heineken
When I craved vodka
I’ve chugged Guinness
But I love champagne
I’ve seen breweries
With no pretzels
But I-I-I-I-I don’t wanna be a beer drinker no more
I-I-I-I-I don’t wanna be a beer drinker no more
It’s cabernet I deserve
And for bourbon I yearn
‘Cause I don’t wanna be a beer drinker no more
I don’t wanna be a beer drinker no more
I don’t wanna be a beer drinker no more
I don’t wanna be a brew guzzler no more
I don’t wanna be an actor out of work
I don’t wanna be a beer drinker no more
WEIRD JUDY and the ANNIE CAN DANCE fan band wonder: What if ACTOR OUT OF WORK was about ANNIE ERIN CLARK?
You wear high boots and throw your pick
You play cool guitars, we want them all
You like to laugh, are you obscene?
You failed at soccer, so you sing
Your Krokodil, does not swim
You’re Annie Erin Clark
It’s your birthday, that’s the truth
You sing better than Taylor Swift
You strum and croon then bite your lip
You shredded and flirted with Dua Lipa
We’re your fan band, don’t you know?
We always laugh with mouths of blood
We like your mercy, when it’s strange
We run down the highway, like psychopaths
We think we love you, we think we’re mad
We’re so happy, you didn’t marry John
We saw a fast slow disco, where they sweat
We think we love you, we think we’re mad
Happy 37th, AC!
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if NEW YORK was about delicatessens?
NEW PORK
New Pork isn’t New Pork without mayo
Just go a few blocks for coleslaw
I’ll call for takeout potato salad
It’s the only braunschweiger in the city that I’ll eat
New lox wasn’t fresh lox, back to your lox
So much romaine salad with bleu cheese
We’ll order roast beef with provolone
Well it’s the only pumpernickel in the city I can stand
I’ll have Swiss on a hero, I’ll have knockwurst
But for you darling, I’ll get it with capers
I’ll have bagels with cream cheese, salami on rye
But for you darling, I’ll order bacon again
New Pork isn’t New Pork without mayo
Too few croutons left on my chef salad
So I’ll trade my liver for some liverwurst
Well it’s the only dill horseradish in the city that I’ll eat
Only tuna salad in the city that would
Only pepper jack cheese that would ever please me
I’ll have sausage on a hero, I’ll have mustard
But for you darling, I’ll get pastrami again
I’ll have a BLT, Gouda with pepperoni
But for you darling, I’ll get the whole schmear
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if RATTLESNAKE was about desserts?
PUDDING CAKE
Follow the recipe for cinnamon rolls
Know anyone who makes root beer floats?
Where the blueberry pie is out of this world
I see the cake holes filled with jam
As if the chef decorated with apple pecan
Where the Crème Brule is out of this world
Mixing, mixing I’ll make lemon candy
Mixing, mixing will anyone thank me?
I’m a chowhound for banana nut bread
And I’m craving raspberry cheesecake
Where the buttercream torte is out of this world
I love strawberries and cream in a cup
Will that pudding give me a sugar rush?
Where the gingerbread cookies are out of this world
Baking, baking, baking red velvet cupcakes for me
Baking, baking not one but two peach muffins for me
Baking, baking, baking caramel apple crisp for me
Baking, baking, baking white wine fudge truffles for me
Mixing, mixing, mixing butterscotch toffee for me
Baking, baking, baking tiramisu for me
Mixing, mixing, mixing sangria gelato for me
Baking, baking, baking cream cheese pastries for me
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if BRING ME YOUR LOVES was about cold weather?
BRING ME YOUR GLOVES
Bring me your gloves all your gloves your gloves
I wanna wear them too you know?
Bring me your socks all your socks your socks
I wanna save my toes you know?
Bring me brandy all your brandy your brandy
I wanna drink it too you know?
Bring me hot soup all your soup your soup
I wanna slurp it too you know?
I thought to wear galoshes
I thought to wear galoshes
But I froze my feet
Bring me your Uggs all your Uggs your Uggs
I wanna use them too you know?
Bring me snow shovels all your shovels your shovels
I wanna scoop it too you know?
Bring me your eggnog all your eggnog your eggnog
I wanna swill it too you know?
Bring me lamb’s wool all your wool your wool
I wanna snuggle too you know?
I took away your longies
I took away your longies
But I can’t no I can’t make you chill
Bring me your gloves
Bring me your gloves
We both have our sherpa coats
Fleece in my stocking cap
Bring me your cold skin all your skin your skin
I wanna warm you up you know?
Bring me your heat all your heat your heat
Oh, let’s keep this clean you know?
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if HUEY NEWTON was about snacks?
FIG NEWTONS
Reeses, Pieces
Fake sugar, real cashews
Cookies, cupcakes
Cartons of cinnamon twists
Pleasure dot scrumptious dot Fig dot Newtons
It was a lovely, lovely peppermint
Cone-less, ice cream
Pie-less but got Bundt cake
Lime candy, Biscotti
Turned on by a sugar rush
So Bomb Pops, Bing cherries, Hail sopaipillas
It was a lovely, lovely Thin Mint
Assorted candies that shine
Of bagels and scones, you know, you know
Oh, our cream cheese pastries, your New York cheesecake
You know
Oh, perpetual munching, always terribly fattening, you know, you know
Oh, you got the pop with the fizz in the city of muffins, you know
Salt, salt, saltiest
Fudge for the fudge-less
Oh, plum, plum and plumper
Suckers for dinner
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if LOS AGELESS was about writing?
LOST PAGES
The lost pages the writer never finds
In my lost pages the muses milk their young
But I can keep writing
No, I can keep writing
My lost pages float past the bar
Churn out pages of unwanted memoirs
But I can keep revising
No, I can keep revising
How can anybody read you?
How can anybody read me and choose you?
How can anybody read you and choose me?
And not lose their minds, fools?
How can anybody not love Maya Angelou?
My rejection letters stack higher than Mount Doom
Will I lose my mind, too?
The last pages of my festive noir
Girls in chick lit crying out their hearts
But why can’t I speel?
In my lost pages, the paragraphs never break
I plan and plan until my outline takes shape
But is my poem mental debris?
I admire Bram Stoker, but he gives me the creeps
Oh dear agent, I really can’t do it now
I’m a monster and you’re my Frankenstein
But I can keep typing
No, I can keep on typing
I guess I stole your ideas, honey, I guess I feel guilt
I tried to write you a romance, but it comes out all sick
I guess I wrote about you, honey, I guess I feel guilt
I tried to write a thriller, but my villain called in sick
I tried to write you a comedy, but it comes out a lament
I tried to write you a love song, but it became a media event
This time WEIRD JUDY lets St Vincent spoof herself: What if MARROW was about birds?
SPARROW
Muscle connects to the loon
No eyes are on the sparrow, the sparrow
The lark keeps whistling his silly number, as if he isn’t prey
Plover, I don’t play to win
The birds will cry, I let them cry
Robin
I pray to all to make me a real gull
F-E-E-D
Feed me, feed me
F-E-E-D
Your beak is red
Muscle connects to the loon
No eyes are on the sparrow, the sparrow
With regret I say, this birdbath isn’t a birdbath without you, love
F-E-E-D
Feed me, feed me
Is that a rattle sounding from the brush?
H-E-L-P
Mom, Maria
F-E-E-D
Feed me, feed me
F-E-E-D
It’s not the end
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if PSYCHOPATH was about pets?
PSYCHO CATS
Running down the hallway like a psycho cat
All the fleas and furry claws cover my back
My gerbil has become an insomniac
I’m on the edge of a hamster attack
You said monkey quit your vomiting
Romance is exactly like herding cats
We’re feeding our newts and salamanders
And we’ll keep our big fat turtles
So I’m standing in my yard and now I know
It’s the worst day of my life for my beagle’s a slut
Keep all of your white mice
When all the vets have moved on
And I’ll keep your bonkers lab mice
When all the ferrets have gone home
Keep your awful head lice
When the Shih Tzu hits the fan
And keep your arthritic mastiff
When my pugs have turned into gnomes
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if BAD BELIEVER was about baseball?
BAD RELIEVER
What do you know I’m just a bad reliever
What do you know what do you know
From the bullpen and into my warmup
I left my mojo sitting on the bench
Knuckleballs hurled at trembling batters
Fastballs all turned into knock downs
What do you know I’m just a bad reliever
What do you know what do you know
Show me your pine tar I’m just a bad reliever
What do you know what do you know
Coach pulled me after three round-trippers
Taunted by runners after each wild pitch
Lost my slider after six hit batters
Booed by jeering, jeering fans
What do you know I’m just a bad reliever
What do you know what do you know
Show me a called strike I’m just a bad reliever
What do you know what do you know
Batters now don’t fear me
I know that I’d be demoted
Called up, now leaving in the night
Blown save is my nickname
There really is no umpire who’ll
Call them strikes
Call them strikes
Call them strikes
What do you know I’m just a bad reliever
What do you know what do you know
I’ll show you my spitball I’m just a bad reliever
What do you know what do you know
WEIRD JUDY wonders: What if THE STRANGERS was about pastry chefs?
THE BAKERS
Lover, I don’t cook with gin
Forestall the thrills till after Lent
Serve Prozac with crackers
Serve Prozac with crackers
I drew flowers and lace on your sister’s wedding cake
Bake the plums in flapjacks
Bake the plums in flapjacks
You showed up with bananas, looking to go make a pie
Paint the fudge with frosting
Paint the fudge with frosting
Cookbooks under your mattress, like I wouldn’t notice
Serve tortes on coffee breaks
Serve tortes on coffee breaks
Why do I share
recipes I keep from the bakers who creep where I sleep?
Desperate is a junk food tattoo, as is pudding with prunes
Drink cognac play blackjack
Drink cognac play blackjack
Too much fudge requires girth in reverse, though my girth’s been worse
Make doughnut holes bigger
Make doughnut holes bigger
Why should I share
recipes I keep from bakers who knead where I knead?
You showed up with pumpkin pie, looking to serve it that night
Lover, I don’t baste with gin
Bake peach cobbler until I’m spent
Serve the munchkins cupcakes
Serve the munchkins cupcakes
Copyright Judy Bruce and Heyjoood.com 2020