(This is sort of a tribute to vaudeville. Hope there are some Yes fans out there.)
"UP ON THE STAGE"
(To the tune of "Close to the Edge" by Yes)
[I The Silly Time Of Strange]
A seasoned comic takes the stage and leaves them all in tears
A rearranged scenario could play for years and years
And use the same material in every different town
And kill 'em all with stuff that every funnyman has passed around
A plant within the audience with one distinctive cry
Can keep them all guffawing even though they don't know why
A stooge who takes a roundhouse slap and bounces back for more
A sexy dame who keeps them in their seats, not heading for the door
Up on the stage, round by the curtain
(Just make 'em laugh, just make 'em laugh)
Close to the wings, down by the footlights
(Just make 'em laugh, just make 'em laugh)
On a tour from Buffalo to Nacogdoches
Playing to a different crowd for every show
Honing all the gags we hope to take back with us to New York
Wond'ring why our favorite jokes just tend to lay there
While the ones we think aren't funny knock 'em dead
We increase the laughter simply by including the word "pork"
Up on the stage, round by the curtain
Close to the wings, down by the footlights
People will laugh at you
I go on, I get off
Now that your pants, are falling down
Now that you find, now you're a clown
[II Total Massive Fail]
I do my act, I throw every single thing I've got at them
I drop my pants and dance just like a hoochie-koochie femme
I mug and girn as though I've lost my everlovin' mind
And still they throw tomatoes that are splattering on my behind
Sad jester on the naked stage while everybody jeers
Resorts to acting like he's being raped by rabid steers
He's going down the toilet like a turd expelled by Lawrence Tierney
Up on the stage, down by the curtain
Close to the wings, round by the footlights
Down by the wings, close to the curtain
Up on the stage, round by the footlights
Total failure's now ingrained inside your memory
You're a jerk and everybody hates your guts
You should climb under a rock and never show your face again
You were wrong if ever you thought you were funny
With the main exception of your ugly mug
So you run away and hide, and never take the stage again
Up on the stage, round by the curtain
Close to the wings, down by the footlights
People will laugh at you
I go on, I get off
[III I Go On, I Get Off]
In his blackface
He was clearly just a vaudeville entertainer
Singing in some minstrel show for the entertainment of the yokels
I go on, I get off
I go on, I get off
A hundred people barely qualify
To be an audience, and watch us die, onstage
Remember when a squirting daffodil
(When the straight man tells his stooge to smell the flower)
Could make 'em laugh, now it seems nothing will, today
(Giving him a faceful when he bends to sniff the fragrant bouquet)
I go on, I get off
I go on, I get off
Nobody cares when Pagliacci cries
(It's a boring act that nobody remembers)
We give them faces hit by custard pies, the rubes
(Asking them to not recall that they've seen it all a half-a-million times)
I wish we had a star like Milton Berle
(He's hilarious when he puts on a dress and)
Or just a single decent-looking girl, with boobs
(Wiggles his pretend behind for the titillation of the group mind)
I go on, I get off
I go on, I get off
I go on, I get off
I go on, I get off
I go on, I get off
[IV Seasons Of Mook]
The time between the shows is when I get drunk on my ass
And weave among the patrons throwing every dame a pass
And realize my trousers are still down around my knees
And stagger out into the street, my dingus flapping in the breeze
Ahh, ahh
Then according to a paper handed to me by a kid
The headline states that vaudeville's deader than an oven lid
So I decided I'd go into real estate with cousin Sid
And the days of acting stupid for the people
Swept away and soundly kicked into the past
By a brand new wave of bigger fools on radio and TV
Up on the stage, down by the curtain
Close to the wings, round by the footlights
People would laugh at you
Now that it's all moldy and dead
Punched in the gut, kicked in the head
Now that it's gone, now that you're old
Vaudeville will pass you by
I go on, I get off
I go on, I get off
I go on, I get off
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