*Joy to the world, the school blew up
And all the teachers died.
Except for the principal, who’s hanging on the flagpole
With a rope around his neck, with a rope around his neck
With a rope, a rope around his neck. *
And then there’s this little gem:
Deck the halls with gasoline.
Fa la la la…
Strike a match and watch it gleam.
Fa la la la…
Watch the school house burn to ashes.
Fa la la la…
Aren’t you glad you played with matches.
Fa la la la…
Incidentally, the guy who wrote on top of spaghetti died a week or so ago. Not to long after Fred Rogers.
As far as the worm song, this is how we learned it:
You may laugh when the hearse goes by
but you may be the next one to die.
They’ll wrap you up in a nice clean sheet
And bury you about six feet deep.
They’ll put you in a wooden box
And cover you up with dirt and rocks.
And all goes good for about a week,
Until the coffin begins to leak!
Then…
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out
And they play pinochle on your snout.
They eat your clothes, they eat your hat,
They crawl in skinny, they come out fat.
They eat your eyes, they eat your nose
They eat the jelly between your toes.
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out
They eat your guts and then spit them out.
They use your bones as telephones
and call you up but you’re no longer at home
A great big worm with rolling eyes,
Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes,
Your stomach turns a slimy green,
And pus pours out like whipping cream.
You spread it on a slice of bread,
And that’s what worms eat when you’re dead.
I was quoting it from memory and apparently got it wrong – it’s “where the fellers chew tobaccy” and it was written by Mort Dixon to music by Harry Warren.
On top of ol’ smokey
All covered in blood
I shot my dear teacher
With a .44 slug.
I shot her with pleasure
I shot her with pride
I could not have missed her
She’s 40 feet wide.
Great green globs of greasy grimy gopher guts
mutilated mokey meet, little dirty terdy feet
French fried eyeballs sitting in a cooler,
but I forgot my spoon…
so they gave me a scab sandwich with mustard on top
eagle eyeballs and camel snots
all these things don’t fit in a pot,
so they gave me puke with a cherry on top…bop!
This was a hand game for two people, and who ever hit the other person on the head first when you say “bop” wins.
I don’t even remember when I learned this version, which falls under the “straw+extra” section of the taxonomy:
Great green gobs of greasy grimy gopher guts
Mutilated monkey meat
Shredded baby parakeet
Stir-fried eyeballs rollin’ down a dirty street
I forgot my spoon, but not my straw! slurp Aaah!
(invariably followed by: )
Alka-Seltzer to the rescue!
Plop plop, fizz fizz, OH what a relief it is!
Does anyone else remember the “Baby Bumblebee” song? Starts off like this:
I’m pickin’ up a baby bumblebee
Won’t my mommy be so proud of me?
I’m pickin’ up a baby bumblebee–
Ow! It stung me!
My husband and I both learned this song as kids but he was horrified at how gross mine was. (involves not wiping, but licking off the bumblebee, and goes from there)
This is the version we sang in my tenure as a Girl Scout:
Great green gobs of greasy grimy gopher guts,
Mutilated monkey meat, little piggies’ hairy feet,
all mixed up with snot and eyeballs,
floating in a barrel of pus.
(Yes, I know I’m responding to a seven-year-old post)
The version I knew as a kid went:
Girls are made of greasy, grimy gopher guts
Chopped-up monkey meat
Concentrated birdies’ feet
French fried eyeballs swimming in a pool
Ain’t that a bloody treat?
My sister and I changed the lyrics to suit us, and I’ve forgotten the version we actually learned. Our version was:
[sung] Great green globs of greasy grimy gopher guts,
mutilated monkey meet,
two little birdie feet.
Top it of with something
tasting really sweet.
Eat it for a midnight snack.[/sung]
[ed: remember the old Campbells’ Soup commercials? this line is spoken] And don’t forget the spoon 'cuz it’s mm-mm GOOD!
ETA: My first response to a known zombie thread, too.
We’re leaving zombies – even those with greasy grimy gopher guts – open these days. I also don’t see a need to move this to Cafe Society – though a “song,” it’s not really about music as much as it is about nostalgia.
Interesting. It seems that the first two lines are mostly the same across variants but the biggest diversion is always in the third line.
Anyway, here’s how we sung it in the 1970’s:
Great big gobs of greasy, grimy, gopher guts
Mutilated monkey meat
Dirty little birdie’s feet
All topped off with vibrating vulture vomit
And I forgot my spoon.
Can’t believe nobody else had the “vibrating vulture vomit” in their version. Much like rotating meat, vomit is always better to eat when moving, or in this case, vibrating.
ooey gooey green grimy gopher guts
chopped up monkey’s feet
percolated birdy turd
french-fried eyeballs dipped in a pool of blood
get it at your favourite store
Sung to the tune of the Colonel Bogie March from Bridge on the River Kwai Comet! It makes your teeth turn green!
Comet! It tastes like gasoline.
Comet! It makes you vomit.
So grab some comet and vomit today.
I heard the next part like this:
Vomit it makes your teeth turn blue
Vomit it tastes like elmers glue
Vomit it tastes like comet
So get some vomit and comet today.
Great green gobs of greasy grimy gopher guts
Mutilated monkey meat
Marinated chicken feet
All served up on a piece of yummy Wonder bread
But Malthus forgot his spoon!
(… but he brought a strawwwwww)