Who's Next?

First we got the bomb and that was good,

'Cause we love peace and motherhood.

Then Russia got the bomb, but that's okay,

'Cause the balance of power's maintained that way.

Who's next?

Then France got the bomb, but don't you grieve,

'Cause they're on our side (I believe).

China got the bomb, but have no fears,

'Cause they can't wipe us out for at least five years.

Who's next?

Japan will have its own device,

Transistorized at half the price.

South Africa wants two, that's right:

One for the black and one for the white.

Who's next?

Egypt's gonna get one too,

Just to use on you know who.

So Israel's getting tense,

Wants one in self defense.

"The Lord's our shepherd," says the psalm,

But just in case we better get a bomb.

Who's next?

Luxembourg is next to go,

And (who knows?) maybe Monaco.

We'll try to stay serene and calm

When Alabama gets the bomb.

Who's next?

Who's next?

Who's next?

Who's next?

Folk Song Army

We are the Folk Song Army,

Ev'ryone of us cares.

We all hate poverty, war, and injustice,

Unlike the rest of you squares.

There are innocuous folk songs,

But we regard 'em with scorn.

The folks who sing 'em have no social conscience.

Why, they don't even care if Jimmy Crack Corn.

If you feel dissatisfaction,

Strum your frustrations away,

Some people may prefer action,

But give me a folk song any old day.

The tune don't have to be clever,

And it don't matter if you put a coupla extra syllables into a line.

It sounds more ethnic if it ain't good English.

And it don't even gotta rhyme--excuse me, rhyne.

Remember the war against Franco?

That's the kind where each of us belongs.

Though he may have won all the battles,

We had all the good songs.

So join the Folk Song Army,

Guitars are the weapons we bring

To the fight against poverty, war, and injustice.

Ready! Aim! Sing!

The Vatican Rag

First you get down on your knees,

Fiddle with your rosaries,

Bow your head with great respect,

And genuflect, genuflect, genuflect!

Do whatever steps you want if

You have cleared them with the Pontiff,

Ev'rybody say his own

Kyrie eleison,

Doin' the Vatican Rag.

Get in line in that processional,

Step into that small confessional,

There the guy who's got religion'll

Tell you if your sin's original.

If it is, try playin' it safer.

Drink the wine and chew the wafer,

Two, four, six, eight,

Time to transubstantiate!

So get down upon your knees,

Fiddle with your rosaries,

Bow your head with great respect,

And genuflect, genuflect. genuflect!

Make a cross on your abdomen,

When in Rome do like a Roman,

Ave Maria,

Gee, it's good to see ya,

Gettin' ecstatic an' sorta dramatic an'

Doin' the Vatican

Rag!

Fight Fiercely, Harvard

Fight fiercely, Harvard, fight, fight fight!

Demonstrate to them our skill.

Albeit they possess the might,

Nonetheless we have the will.

How we shall celebrate our victory,

We shall invite the whole team up for tea (How jolly!)

Hurl that spheroid down the field, and

Fight, fight, fight.

Fight fiercely, Harvard, fight, fight, fight.

I mpress them with our prowess, do!

Oh, fellows, do not let the crimson down,

Be of stout heart and true.

Come on, chaps, fight for Harvard's glorious name,

Won't it be peachy if we win the game?

(Oh, goody!)

Let's try not the injure them, but

Fight, fight, fight!

Let's not be rough, though!

Fight, fight, fight!

And do fight fiercely!

Fight, fight, fight!