(Pat)

Sit down my friends,
Turn up the sound
And hear the worst
Songwriter around
As for the rest
Talent, they've some
Compared to them
I'm merely a bum
Seldom do you hear
A melody so queer
And lyrics calculated
To assault your ear

Mangler of the Song
Vocals like King Kong
Guaranteed to get
The rhyme and rhythm wrong
Tells a woeful tale
Images absurd
(Woodpecker is prosthesis
And not just a bird)
Quick to write the first two stanzas
They are usually the best
There's no telling if or when
I'll ever come up with the rest

Mangler of the Song
Out of touch too long
Still writing propaganda
For the Viet Cong
Living in the past
Loves his 8-Track tape
Bottom of the barrel
Where he goes to scrape
Knows a little Frank Sinatra
Not a word of Britney Spears
Haven't listened to the radio
In twenty-seven years

(Chorus)

Mangler of the Song
Worst offender yet
Posting his creations
On the Internet
Hypes his politics
Mix of left and right
Not intimidated
By a verbal fight
Insufferable old curmudgeon
Bankrupt literary hack

(Pat)

If I had a pot to piss in
It would probably be cracked

Sit down, Monsieur
Put up your feet
I locked the door
There's no retreat
I understand
You'll spend the night
I hope the handcuffs
Don't fit too tight
I just wrote a verse
You will have to hear
I Super Glued the headphone
Speakers to your ear
Crank extraordinaire
Radical belief
Love to give
The liberal politicians grief
But I think you'll find
Equally, it's true
I'll gladly take a poke
At the right-wing, too
I don't see a contradiction
Government is all the same
Tax-consuming vultures
(D) and (R) are equally to blame
Time to stop the war
Time to bomb some more
Open up or shut the immigration door
All my audiences captive
Need that for my art to thrive
Best be complimentary
Reason's elementary
If you want to leave this room alive

(Chorus)

Mangler of the Song
Finally made it pay
Serenades the prisoners
At Gitmo Bay
Concert in the cell
Really gives 'em Hell
How can they endure it
Every single day?
Violates the Hague Convention
Raspy singing voice of Pat

(Pat)

Suicidal bombers!
Who should be "More Misérables" than that?

(Pat's Agent)

I used to dream of managing a star
But have you seen that has-been and his old jalopy car?

Mangler of the Song
Butcher of the Tune
Incapable of even rhyming
"June" and "moon"
Thinks that he's Spike Jones
Or Weird Al Yankovic
But listen to his lyrics
They will make you sick
What a lack of business savvy
Landed me this fat baffoon
I'll never make a penny
Managing this Bastard of the Tune

(Pat)

Mangler of the Song

(Agent)

Chops 'em all in half

(Pat)

Really the comedian

(Chorus)

Can't make us laugh

(Pat)

Troubadour of love
Peddler of hate

(Agent)

Instigator, agitator
Reprobate

(Agent and Chorus)

Everyone who loves good music
Always tries to shun this clown

(Pat)

Everybody give a cheer!

(Agent)

Everybody chug a beer!

(All)

Everybody plug your ears to the Mangler of the Song!