And now, the assembled voices of the Niagara Falls Reporter Oratorio Choir and Cocktail Bob's Combined and Semi-Sober Christmas Ensemble present a free holiday roundelay of Niagara Falls seasonal music for the listening pleasure of our dear readers.
HARK, THE FEDERAL AGENTS COME
(To the tune of "Hark, The Herald Angels Sing," with apologies to Felix Mendelssohn and Charles Wesley.)
Hark! The federal agents come,
They're arriving on the run;
Writs and wiretaps by the score,
Subpoenas, law books, and much more;
Fearful, public servants rise!
Cough up records of your bribes;
To the federal host all hail:
Looks like you'll all go to jail.
FBI and tax men snooping,
Veteran probers are all grouping;
DAs, AGs, IRS,
Looks like you had best confess;
G-men come with furrowed brow,
Through your records they will plow;
To the federal host all hail:
Looks like you'll all go to jail.
AWAY ON A GOLF COURSE
(To the tune of "Away in a Manger," with apologies to Martin Luther and James R. Murray.)
Away on a golf course, no greens and no tees,
The weeds are all growing, they bring in no fees.
No drivers are swinging, no golfers break par;
If you want corruption, you needn't look far.
The birds are all chirping, the squirrels gather nuts;
Hyde Park disappeared, no ifs, ands, or buts.
No adults, no seniors, no ladies, no kids;
Hyde Park went to cronies, without any bids.
We're promised lush greens and a big rubber dome,
We're promised fine fairways where golfers can roam.
Instead we get brown fields and seagulls a-flutter;
The jerks who all did this should be whomped with a putter.
JOY TO US ALL
(To the tune of "Joy to the World," with apologies to Isaac Watts and Lowell Mason.)
Joy to us all, the pork is come!
Let's all dive in and feast;
Let all employees have free cars,
Instead of work, just lounge in bars,
And heaven and nature sing,
And heaven and nature sing,
And heaven, and heaven and nature sing.
Joy to us all, patronage reigns!
Give friends and family jobs;
Give an office to my brother,
Give a clerk's desk to my mother,
And we'll cash fat paychecks,
And we'll cash fat paychecks,
And we will aaaallll cash fat paychecks.
Joy to us all, God bless City Hall!
Make new consultancies!
Appoint some writers of new grants,
Then stuff the cash in our fat pants;
You can buy these jobs with votes,
You can buy these jobs with votes,
You can all haaaaave these jobs with future votes!
I'M DREAMING OF A FINE LIBRARY
(To the tune of "White Christmas," with apologies to Bing Crosby and Irving Berlin.)
I'm dreaming of a fine library,
Just like the one I used to know,
Where the stacks are filled
With books to build
The children's knowledge all a-glow.
I'm dreaming of a fine library,
Just like the one I used to know,
Where one can read in quiet
And improve one's diet
Of learning without the need for dough.
There are no books nor bliss, alas;
Who dreamed it would have come to pass?
City Hall has no money,
It's not very funny;
The mayor's attitude seems crass.
The court says things will turn out fine,
But for now, for books we have to pine;
And City Hall
Has a message for all:
Stuff your books where the sun doesn't shine.
JUDGES WE HAVE HEARD ON HIGH
(To the tune of "Angels We Have Heard on High," with apologies to James Chadwick and Gloria Barnes.)
Judges we have heard on high
Curtly firing our mouthpiece,
So we ask you in reply:
Would it help if we use grease?
We're Laborers Local 91.
Gosh, we used to have such fun.
Making scab shops come to close,
Breaking Michael Hudson's nose.
Now we're stuck in federal court,
Charged with rackets as our sport;
Mercy may the judge anoint,
Or we'll all go to the joint.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | Dec. 27 2005 |