If you want to know http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ramones
I will go to my grave denying it!!! You can prove nothing!!! 
I do enjoy “The Lion Sleeps Tonight”, though. My best friend in high school had an uncle who was a very talented singer (and a cross-dresser). They played “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” at his funeral while they were bearing in the movie poster size picture of him dressed as Carmen Miranda.*
*I was not there. This was told to me by my bestest friend who would never lie to me. I could, though, tell you about the funeral I attended wherein the daughter of the deceased was wearing cut-off jeans and a tube top. I think I recall Willie Nelson being played at that funeral, “Poncho and Lefty”.
I’m pretty sure it was Neil Diamond he insulted.
The official worst rock/pop song in the world (according to readers of Dave Barry’s column) is Donna Summer’s “MacArthur Park.” Interestingly, I don’t think I’ve ever heard this song.
::Scott runs off upon seeing Sauron, a great big freaking flaming eyeball whom Scott thought died before recorded history .::
:dubious:
Beats the crap out of working.
No, he jumped sometime before 1967 (if you really think about it, the timing of the song is impossible. A year has come and gone since the 3rd of June but her father, who was alive at the time, died last spring? WTH?) and so he missed out on Wildfire by at least 8 years. They’re both good songs though.
And so’s The Lion Sleeps Tonight, although I’m partial to Robert John’s 1972 cover.
And so’s MacArthur Park.
He has that effect on a lot of posters.
To really do the song justice you have to hear the Anthony Newley version (the original?)
Sommmme one, left the caaake ooouuuttt in the raaaiinnn
I found this tidbit at a website called “Song Facts”:
The legend lives on, from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitchee Gumee.
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.
Now don’t be dissin’ the Lightfoot.
I can see her lyin’ back in her faded dress
In a room where you do what you don’t confess
Her name was Ann and I’ll be damned if I recall her face
She left me not knowin’ what to do…
If you could read my mind, love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old time movie
'Bout a ghost from a wishing well
The man’s a musical GOD.
…In a castle dark or a fortress strong with chains upon my feet, you know that ghost is me…
It’s been so long since I heard that song. It’s one of my mom’s favorites, and I listened to it endlessly as a child. It’s an earworm, but it brings back good memories, too.
So I don’t know whether to hate you or love you, Dooku 
Dooku
I happen to like the song “Thunder Island”.
But I didn’t say that just to start a brouhaha.
Somehow, when people talk about horrible songs, “Thunder Island” never crops up in the conversation. By the way the link you posted seems to have favorable reviews for that entire album.
How could anyone not like Thunder Island? It belongs in the same category as Ridin’ The Storm Out and Carry On Wayward Sun.
There have been times when I’ve started signing purely to annoy the people near me. Songs that have proved effective have been “I’m a Lonely Little Petunia in an Onion Patch” (in response to someone indulging in self-pity, sung starting with a barely audible humm, getting gradually more disticnt until they get my drift),“Bicycle Built for Two,” sung in a slow, gutteral homage to HAL from 2001 Space Oddysey, and, ad nauseum, Shari Lewis’ “This is the song that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends. Some people started singing it not knowing what it was, and they’ll continue singing it forever just because: this is the song that never ends…”. At other times, I’ve found it usefull to “sing” the signature song of obscure Frank Zappa protege Larry “Wild Man” Fisher. I will not attempt to convey the grunt and squeeks of his glottal instument here.
Of course, I’m just an amature in these things. What would a true master of the artform choose? Well, we have the example of Groucho Marx’s visit to the New York Stock Exchange, years after he’d lost almost all his money there. According to various accounts, he chose either “Lydia the Tattooed Lady” or “When Irish Eyes are Smiling.”
Thanks a lot, you guys. Now I’ve got an endless loop in my head.
“Sha-la-la-la-la-la my lady, in the sun with your dress undone…”
As has been pointed out, the timing doesn’t quite work out, but there’s an interesting connection between the two songs in that the same people produced movies on both tunes.
The Wildfire film (working title same as the song) was made at a cost of about twenty-eight million dollars (a lot at the time) and was by all accounts a very good film that everybody would enjoy seeing. It was pulled from distribution at the last minute because of first amendment concerns, to wit :
You just can’t call “Wildfire” in a crowded theater!
I went to a fundie private school as a kid (in the seventies, that is) and when I was in fourth or fifth grade we all attended a seminar about the eeeee-vils of popular music. Afternoon Delight was eeee-vil because it was talking about sex. (Another goody from the seminar: My Sweet Lord, because of the names of pagan gods being spoken in the background.)
I don’t see any problem with the timeline. Billie Joe jumps off the bridge in June . . 1966, let’s say, and Papa and the family talk about it at dinner that day. Papa dies in spring 1967. The singer is singing in June 1967 (“A year has come ‘n’ gone since we heard the news 'bout Billy Joe”).
What’s the problem?
I beg to differ. The worst song in the world, hands down, is “Sometimes When We Touch,” by Dan Hill.
Lyrics here: [URL=http://users.cis.net/sammy/danhill.htm]