Moot Thoughts & Musings

One of my favorite comedic songs is a parody of Pagliacci by Spike Jones, loosely based on the tune "Vesti la giuba" (or "invest in a tuba") from the opera except for the part where it's loosely based on the tune "Sabre Dance" by Kachaturian. My sister asked me for the lyrics, so I typed them out and checked them with the recording. Since I couldn't them anywhere else on the internet, here they are (and so I don't forget, for future reference):

Palyatchee

When we was in the city, we was wonderin' where to go.
The sign spelled out "pagliacci" up in lights above the show.
We thought it'd be a Western, 'til the stage lit up with lights, and
ninety-seven people sung without a horse in sight!
We couldn't understand them 'cause spoke a foreign (fur-in) tongue,
but we can give you some idea of what we think they sung...

*mimicking opera voice* "Ridi, Pagliacio!! Sul tu'amore infranto"

All at once there's a fat guy in a clown suit.
T'ain't Haller-ween, that's for shore.
Then this here feller, this Punchy Neller,
Begins to beller -- Like we all was deef.

*aaaahhhahaa*

That was Pal-ya-tchee, and he sung:

Invest in a tuba, and somewhere other 'bout Cuba.
He sung about a lady, who weighed two-hunderd and eighty!
When she takes up powder, he just starts chirpin' louder,
he don't do a gol' darn thing, 'cept to stand up there and sing.

When we listen to Pal-ya-tchee,
we get itchy and scratchy.
This sure is topcorn
so we go and buy some popcorn;
we hate to go back
but we can't get our dough back,
Ain't no use complainin'
'cause outside it's a-rainin'.

Seven hours later,
we're still in the darn theater.
Takin' turns a-nappin'
waitin' for somethin' to happen.

Pal-ya-tchee, he ain't hurryin'
but the folks on stage are flurryin'
it sounds like Ketchy-tur-eean's Sabre Dance.

Then ol' Palyatchee finds the guy he seekin' cheek to cheekin' with his wife, he grabs the knife and stabs the louse who stole his spouse, and then he stabs the lady and himself.
T'ain't very sanitary.
They all collapse, but ol Palyatchee sets up then gets up sayin' "I am dyin'! I am dyin! I am dyin'!'" We start cryin', 'cause, to tell the truth, we're dyin', too.

As the footlights fade out,
We see Pagliacci laid out,
but the dagger never caused it.
Pagliacci was plumb exhausted.

*opera voice* "Ridi, Pagliacco! Sul tu'amore in....."

da, da, da dum dum Dah!