Parody first; original lyrics after.
Just a Gatchaman
- Don’t my leader look good in them white jeans?
- Flared down the leg, belt with a big “G”
- And a butt so tight it’s just obscene!
- But that’s ok with me
- When Galactor calls, he’s ready to fight
- So damn efficient, man, it ain’t even right
- And when Hakase says, “’bout your pay, it got lost again,”
- I tell him, Ken,
- This life just ain’t no easy road
- Makin’ all those bases explode, and
- It’d sure be nice to get a decent wage
- Galactor mechs all the damn time
- Then you bring the mail so late it’s a crime
- You want a job with a little less hazard and a little more pay
- You’re just a Gatchaman
- A pathetic li’l moocher-man
- You ain’t got no money, man
- Boy, you got it rough!
- Can’t afford a ’69 Mustang
- Haulin’ a trailer, tryin’ to make the races pay,
- Guess the beat up ol’ number two’ll have to do
- Yeah, I drive too fast, he gives me a glare
- Blue eyes snapping and it just isn’t fair
- ‘Cause I gotta take orders from him in bed, too!
(Ken: *blush* Joe!)
- This life just ain’t no easy road
- Makin’ all those bases explode, and
- It’d sure be nice to get a decent wage
- Galactor mechs all the damn time
- If I can’t make the race, I gotta pay a fine
- I want a job with a little less hazard and a little more pay
- I’m just a Gatchaman
- A pathetic li’l moocher-man
- I ain’t got no money, man
- Boy, we got it rough!
- The plane’s fuel tank took your last dime
- Now Jun’s screamin’, sayin’ it’s the last time
- You’re out on your ass if your tab don’t get paid
- Oh, we’re just the Gatchaman
- We’re pathetic moocher-men
- “Joe, please pay my tab for me, man”
- Boy, we got it rough!
- So, Jun, is that enough?
- I hope it’s enough . . .
***
Whiskey Girl
- Don’t my baby look good in them blue jeans?
- Tight on the top with a belly button ring
- A little tattoo somewhere in between she only shows to me
- Hey, we’re going out dancin’ she’s ready tonight
- So damn good-lookin’, boys, it ain’t even right
- And when the bartender says, “For the lady, what’s it gonna be?”
- I tell him, man . . .
- She ain’t into wine and roses
- Bear just makes her turn up her nose
- And she can’t stand the thought of sippin’ champagne
- No Cuervo Gold Margaritas
- Just ain’t enough good burn in tequila
- She needs somethin’ with a little more edge and a little more pain
- She’s my little whiskey girl
- She’s my little whiskey girl
- My ragged-on-the-edges girl
- But I like ‘em rough
- Baby got a ’69 Mustang
- Four on the floor, and you oughta hear the pipes ring
- I jump behind the wheel and it’s away we go
- Hey, I drive too fast, but she don’t care
- Blue bandana tied all up in her hair
- Just sittin’ there, singin’ every song on the radio . . .
- She ain’t into wine and roses
- Bear just makes her turn up her nose
- And she can’t stand the thought of sippin’ champagne
- No Cuervo Gold Margaritas
- Just ain’t enough good burn in tequila
- She needs somethin’ with a little more edge and a little more pain
- She’s my little whiskey girl
- She’s my little whiskey girl
- My ragged-on-the-edges girl
- But I like ‘em rough
- No Cuervo Gold Margaritas
- Just ain’t enough good burn in tequila
- She needs somethin’ with a little more edge and a little more pain
- She’s my little whiskey girl
- She’s my little whiskey girl
- My ragged-on-the-edges girl
- But I like ‘em rough
- Yeah, I like ‘em rough
- I like ‘em rough
***
June 27, 2004