-> "My, My, That Heat Index is High"
Original Song Title:
"American Pie"
(MP3)
Parody Song Title:
"My, My, That Heat Index is High"
The Lyrics
Long, long time ago
I can still remember
How the summer used to make me smile.
Eagerly, we grabbed the chance
To get out on the lawn and dance
Beneath the water sprinklers for awhile.
But now that I am over forty,
Summer comes and- lordy, lordy-
Barely leave my doorstep
Heat just drains all my pep
I can’t remember very well,
Maybe it was always hot as Hell,
But temperatures just seem to swell
Each year that passes by.
Oh,
My, my, hot enough now to fry
Scrambled eggs out on the sidewalk
Everything’s parched and dry
My clothes are drenched, got beads of sweat in my eye
Maybe this’ll be the way that I die
This could be the way that I die
Did you hear the weatherman
Say that we’d hit 1-0-3 again
All the forecasts told him so
And can you believe the energy
It takes to run this darned A/C
Because we have to turn it down so low
Last year, our grumpy neighbor Tim
Came and sawed off all the shady limbs
Of our big red oak tree
When one fell on his SUV
I was a desperate, wilted, mid-aged schmuck
When I tried to hijack the Good Humor truck
He called the cops, I’m out of luck
Another record high
And I’m singin’
My, my, hot enough now to fry
Scrambled eggs out on the sidewalk
Everything’s parched and dry
My clothes are drenched, got beads of sweat in my eye
Maybe this’ll be the way that I die
This could be the way that I die
Now after ten beers, I’m still dry as bones
I just feel fat and a little stoned
That’s not how it’s s’posed to be.
Thought that Jester Al went to extremes
When he warned about Earth’s core warming
But there might be something to it, seems to me
Oh, and while the glaciers all melt down
The scientists can only frown
But here’s a great idea—
Why don’t they send the water here?
With drought, and temps at boiling marks
They canceled fireworks in the park
‘Cause even just a tiny spark
Could start flames shooting high.
We were singin’
My, my, hot enough now to fry
Scrambled eggs out on the sidewalk
Everything’s parched and dry
My clothes are drenched, got beads of sweat in my eye
Maybe this’ll be the way that I die
This could be the way that I die
Helter Swelter
In this summer smelter
Wish that I had an igloo shelter
But the ice would melt so fast
It would all run out on the grass
Tangle flowers in a muddy mass
Then they’d dry up- like a fossil- in a cast
A few days later, sweet perfume
From hundreds of decaying blooms
Would set noses askew
With its netherworldly pew
Though a breeze might blow across the field,
The noxious fumes would never yield
And all would say, “What is the deal?
Smells like a piggy sty!”
We’d all be singin’
My, my, hot enough now to fry
Scrambled eggs out on the sidewalk
Everything’s parched and dry
My clothes are drenched, got beads of sweat in my eye
Maybe this’ll be the way that I die
This could be the way that I die
So here we are in this place
Just fools for air-conditioned space
With no hope we’ll be cool again
So come on, Jack be nimble! Jack be quick!
Jack Frost, better get on the stick
Come quench this fire, you’ll be our “best-est” friend
The salvia and Texas sage
Are all that survived Vulcan’s rage
The garden looks like hell
And me, I do as well
Yeah, the air stays thick throughout the night
And there is no relief in sight
Heaven seems blind to our plight
Tomorrow—1-0-5.
We’ll all be singin’
My, my, hot enough now to fry
Scrambled eggs out on the sidewalk
Everything’s parched and dry
My clothes are drenched, got beads of sweat in my eye
Maybe this’ll be the way that I die
This could be the way that I die
I’ve got a case of “Summer Blues”
No longer watch the weather news
When it comes on, I turn away
I went down to the Superstore
To buy a fan for the kitchen floor
But the kid there said they sold out yesterday
And in the street the rising steam
From melting asphalt is no dream
Everything is smokin’
And now the A/C’s broken
So lest I should become a ghost,
I think that I will try to post
Myself to the Alaskan coast
And join a native tribe.
And I’ll be singin’
My, my, hot enough now to fry
Scrambled eggs out on the sidewalk
Everything’s parched and dry
My clothes are drenched, got beads of sweat in my eye
Maybe this’ll be the way that I die
This could be the way that I die
Yeah, I’m singin’
My, my, hot enough now to fry
Scrambled eggs out on the sidewalk
Everything’s parched and dry
My clothes are drenched, got beads of sweat in my eye
Maybe this’ll be the way that I die
This could be the way that I die
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Voting Results
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Pacing: | 4.8 | |
How Funny: | 4.8 | |
Overall Rating: | 4.8 | |
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Total Votes: | 22 |
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Voting Breakdown
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| 5 | | 21 | |
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