Elmer Fudd (A Wabbit Tale)

(to Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run)

In a knoll he creeps
About hunting meat
For a pun-a-day nefarious beast
In sight he spies
His unflappable quarry
With homicidal gleam
Meal he gauges
Trusty Browning primed
Hare squeals, “I’m protected
Don’t shoot me,
I’m one of a kind.”
Dooooh!
Hunter then frowns
Hears a moan near his back
It’s a bear black
Then an open paw smack
Our hero flies and then he thuds
He seems nonplussed
“Wabbit I be Elmer Fudd.”

As he hunts again
He sighs and slyly grins
“I’m gonna twick
That wabbit villain
A twap with keg
Full of powder gwim
Fwom Acme fwiends’ demwolitions.”
The weather brings
Boom thunder clap
He sadly looks up
Lightning from sky lights a match.
Booooom!
Elmer looks like
Briquette from a fire
Walks crazy,
He’s an impaired and crispy fighter
Now he’s burnin’
With ragin’ zeal
His wabbit foe has made him wild
Wagin’ war to win his wabbit meal

(bridge)
His sleep is manic
Bugs, his dulcet tones
Rings through the walls of heart
Explosions reel,
His manhood rattled
New found choice
Seems to light a spark
Feels a fusion
With bunny good at heart
Not befuddled,
Wants a friend with a twist
He wants to run with the bunny
When the moment’s right
Be his ever after Miss

(Dear hare, I’m yours)

The hunter man and Bugs
Are off to Reno
After vows
‘Neath harbor lights
Loony bunny’s
Out with the Fudd tonight
And two hearts beat side by side
“I wuv you Bugsy
Make me well up wiff gwadness,”
Said Elmer,
“You are my wabbit in my soul.”
Oooh
“I’m your hare.
I’m your best friend,”
Bugs Bunny wants to embrace
On their Warner Brother’s show
And they’ll walk now as one
Fulfills their species crush
Mister Missus Elmer Fudd

Copyright 2010 Warren Baker

MuppetLand

Dedicated to all those who loved the show as much as I did. May it bring back fond memories of how simple silliness was a beautiful tonic to whatever ailed you. Of course, without the Boss, this wouldn't have been possible.

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The animals had a homecoming in a theatre late last night

And a scientist named Honeydew poured some goo in a glass pipe

Cute little piggy sitting by the stage waiting in the wings

The goo flows over the glass lip and goes boom

Together they reach out to wipe off the green goo and it’s a normal night

Well Scooter the stage hand tracks down the tragedy and gets everybody back in line

While Rowlf tickles the ivories with his blazing fast paws

From the balcony to the stage laughter thunders through the herd

Those old hands make their play in Muppetland.

A man with big choppers shines his smile as he warms up the Mayhem

Dr. Teeth guides his geniuses as they beat and strum on anything in sight

Man there’s a rift in reality in this place

There’s singing rats dancing with spinning plates

Until the green frog, from a nearby bog, cuts this Strangelove script

The stage is alive as Fozzie Bear warms up with jokes

Guest stars preen in their green rooms waiting for their moment

A swedish chef shoots holes in dough and gives them a new name

The puns and the punished explode into over the top sketches

And chaos takes center stage and nobody’s in control in Muppetland

In the balcony two old men stare on in disbelief

As Nigel guides the music as giant chickens lay blue eggs on stage

A pig pines for a frog but no one seems to notice

Desperate for attention karate chops her way through the mischief

An animal pounds away at his drums

Dancing begins in earnest until a banana brings down the house

A blue thing named Gonzo tries a trick that falls flat but gets some giggles

A pig in a spacesuit speaks his mind but really has little to say out loud

No one watches as the pig gets sucked into the airlock

Or as Scooter reaches to turn down the stage lights.

Inside the aisles are on fire in a real laugh off

Between flesh and whats styroprene and the monsters down here

Don’t say nothing at all, they just grunt out loud and let it all be

And with the flash of a smile these creatures reach for a moment

And try not to land on their can, so they wind up human, not even knowing

Tonight in Muppetland.

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©2009 Warren Baker

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1,532,622,974,712 channels and nothin' on

(to the tune 57 Channels and nothin on)

I bought a groovy young house in the Lewisville hills

Like a plump red cherry on my other stack of bills

And my friends sold me on some digital TV

So here I am sick, just the flat panel and me

I flicked round and round, might as well watch my lawn

There was 1,532,622,974,712 channels and nothin' on

Well now HD entertainment was my personal wish

So off to Best Buy for a satellite dish.

Installer came by to check out my domicile

He looked at the sky, and then said with a smile

"No clear Southern face." Back to cable TV.

There's 1,532,622,974,712 channels and nothin' to see.

Well it might have gotten better had I found something cool

Instead there's Oprah, and Judy, and a cat named Raul

And more Rachel Wray, God knows that I'm done

1,532,622,974,712 channels and nothin' on

So I did what any of us old sick guys would do

I climbed up the stairs and stumbled in my room

I searched then I grabbed the first piece of mind I could find

And I ran down the stairs and sat on my behind

I turned off the beast and I shot it a look

My head boiling in anger at my time that it took

Friends, revenge is best served in the pages of a book

1,532,622,974,712 channels and nothin' on...

1,532,622,974,712 channels and nothin'

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©2009 Warren Baker

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