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A Barry merry Christmas

Barry Smith

STRANDED IN A WINTER WONDERLAND(To the tune of &quotWalkin’ in a Winter Wonderland&quot)Cell phones ring, are you listenin’?People moanin’ and pissin’Our trust in United, was somewhat short-sightedStranded in a winter wonderland.In the meadow they can build a runwayAll employees will have phony smilesWe’ll say, &quotAre you flying?&quot They’ll say &quotNo way.&quot&quotAnd you just lost your Frequent Flier Miles.&quotLater on we’ll bemoanGet the boss on the phoneWe’re stuck here tonight, there aren’t any flightsStranded in a winter wonderland.HAVE A MELANCHOLY CHRISTMAS(To the tune of &quotHave a Holly, Jolly Christmas&quot)Have a melancholy ChristmasIt’s a bleak time of the yearI’ll sit around feeling all depressedDrinking lots of beerIt was better when I was youngerNow I’m old and squareSo I wander the house drinking rum and cokeIn my dingy underwearOh, ho, the mistletoeI wonder if I can smoke it?No one would kiss me anywaySo I just stay home and stroke it.I guess it could be worseAt least it’s not my birthdaySo have a melancholy ChristmasIt’s a messed up holiday!A GAY IN A MANGER(To the tune of &quotAway in a Manger&quot)A gay in a manger, no crib for his bedOur savior has realized he likes guys insteadThe signs were all there, what the hell did you think&quotLove your brother,&quot nudge nudge, wink winkHe hung out with 12 guys and forgave and forgat(Not that there’s anything wrong with that)I pray that my theory the world will embraceJust to see the look on Pat Robertson’s face.IT’S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE AN ISTHMUS(To the tune of &quotIt’s Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas&quot)It’s beginning to look a lot like an isthmusEvery time I checkMy hair just stopped growing on the topBut I still have to shave my neckIt’s beginning to look a lot like an isthmusCurse this family geneThough it’s no surprise, now I realizeI’m no longer 19LITTLE BOMBER BOY(To the tune of &quotLittle Drummer Boy&quot)Come and let us dropA-Bomb-on-SaddamAlthough I’m not sure whyA-Bomb-on-SaddamCause Dubbya’s all riled upA-Bomb-on-SaddamBomb-on-SaddamBomb-on-SaddamWe couldn’t seem to dropA-Bomb-on-OsamaInstead we bombed some peopleWearing pajamasOh, hell, let’s drop a bomb onAll-of-IslamaYokahamaThe Dalai LamaWhen all of THEM are dead, dropA-Bomb-on-my-momAnd while you’re at it why notOn-my-friend-TomThey’re called preemptive strikes, let’sBomb-Every-OneBomb-Every-OneBomb-Every-OneThen we’ll be done…


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