Her name was Gilda
She was a showgirl
A pyramid shape in her hair
Brooklyn accent on the air
She would harangue, rave,
And kvetch with gusto
Upstaging Curtin, Chase, and all
On the set or in the hall
(Who knew comediennes
Could be as good as men?)
Got a star outside Grauman’s Theatre
And an Emmy win!

It was Roseanne Roseannadanna
Made Radner a star—top banana
Oh yes, Miss Roseanne Roseannadanna
Gave a tongue-lashin’ in her unique fashion
Every weekend
On SNL.

A Richard Feder
Wrote her from Fort Lee
Sometimes his wife would write as well
Roseanne always gave ‘em hell
For being “stupid”
And from New Jersey
And as she ranted through her schtick
Something always “made her sick”
Beleaguered colleague, Jane,
Could barely stand the strain
Of the stoic and stern demeanor
She had to maintain

When Miss Roseanne Roseannadanna,
Started quoting her Aunt Pollyanna,
Mom and Papa Roseannadanna,
Also her Nana and Carlos Santana
Every weekend
On SNL.

(Background vocals:
Roseanne…Roseannadanna…
Rhymes with ‘Havana’
And with ‘banana’
That made it funny
And made her mon-ey)


Her name was Gilda
She was a showgirl
But 30-something years ago,
it was quite a different show.
It’s not as funny
without our Gilda
That pinstripe jacket she would wear,
Plastic barrette in her hair,
“It’s always something!” Who
would disagree that’s true?
(If they do, they belong in New Jersey!)
Now, Jane, back to you.


We miss Roseanne Roseannadanna
And her loud editorial banter*
‘Cause now, dear Roseanne Roseannadanna,
The Weekend News anchors
Could be British bankers.
How they need you
On SNL!

(Roseanne…Roseannadanna…)
(Roseanne…Roseannadanna…)

Fade


*Sing with a pronounced NY accent, to fit the rhyme scheme…