MAD Christmas Carols
A couple years back, I wrote a post about some funny parodies of Christmas carols that had appeared in MAD Magazine back in the 70s that have been cluttering my brain. Every December, my referrers log fills up with people doing Google Searches on these songs. I had written down the lyrics in that post to a couple of the more popular songs I remembered ("Sam and Roz Are Coming To Town" and "It Hangs Down From Our Chandelier"), and linked to some others I found. Some of those links are dead now, so I figured I should put the lyrics to some other songs down here for posterity.
"Wrap Your Gift" (found here):
(to the tune of "Deck the Halls")We Three Clods From Omaha Are:
Wrap your gifts with fingers agile, Fa la la...
Seal it up and mark it "fragile", Fa la la...
There's no reason to feel nervous, Fa la la, la la la...
You can trust the postal service, Fa la la...
Hear the postal worker singing, Fa la la...
As your parcel he is flinging, Fa la la...
See it crumple in the bin there, Fa la la, la la la...
Aren't you sorry you walked in there, Fa la la...
See your parcel speed to Philly, Fa la la...
Through the air to cousin Billy, Fa la la...
It will end up in Savanah, Fa la la, la la la...
Via Nome and Butte, Montana, Fa la la...
We three clods from Omaha areOh Little Bank Americard (found here, along with other funny Christmas lyrics) :
Spending Christmas Eve in a car
Who needs a lousy bar?
Drink to Charlie. Drink to Paul
Drink to friends we can't recall
Drink to anything at all
We three clods are feeling no pain
Drunk as skunks with booze on the brain
'Til we're cruising
Into a wrong way lane
Drink to Melvin. Drink to Fred
Drink to those two trucks ahead
Drink till they pronounce us dead
Oh, little Bank AmericardI'm not sure about the interest rate number in this version being the same as in the original MAD Magazine article; the version I copied said "eighteen", but I'm pretty sure I remember it was a one syllable word.
You bring me Christmas Cheer
Without your clout
I have no doubt
No gifts I'd give this year.
Your credit line allows me
To run up bills quite large
And when I'm through
I'll use my Master Charge.
(Same tune, sung in late February)
Oh, little Bank Americard
You bring me discontent
Your int'rest rate
Is over (twelve) percent.
Each month, your cry for payments
My letter-box bombards;
I'm one more sap
Caught in your trap
Next year I'll just send cards.
Update 1255 15 Dec: After I posted, I did some more searching, and found that someone actually posted a scan of the entire article (here, here, and here) from the January 1977 issue, along with other MAD Magazine parodies. It turns out my memories were pretty accurate, but I did forget a couple songs, including "Out There On The Sidewalk" (to the tune of "Away In A Manger"):
Out there on the sidewalk a Santa Claus stands,
Beside a fake chimney, a bell in his hands;
A second one's smoking a smelly cigar;
A third one is picking his teeth in a bar;
A fourth Santa's trying to pick up a blonde;
A fifth one is drunk in the gutter beyond;
A sixth one is part of a window display;
The seventh and eighth ones appear to be gay;
They're fat and they're skinny, They're short and they're tall;
And none of them look like the real one at all;
With so many Santas it's tough to keep score --
Small wonder that kids don't believe any-more.