Ike: Well well well, now, dis de nasty sucker dat be respondable fo de en-whiffment o' de origumal potium. Now, in his infinate respondable party personaged as THE EVIL PRINCE, and through de magik o' stage-kraft of course, we's about to see what gwine on in his magikal conjurance up of his lil' cauldrom o' doom! Now check it on out now . . .

Somewhere, over there, I can tell, (I guess so)
There's a voice of
A potato-headed whatchamacallit (Whoo, do tell!)
Who does not wish me well!

His clothes are quite stupid,
And also his shoes! (Ain't no biznis like show biznis)
He's got a big ol' duck-mouth!
(Who knows how he chews!)

He thinks he knows something
About THE GREAT PLAN!
How ULTIMATE BLANDNESS
Must RULE and COMMAND

He knows not a drop,
Not a crumb,
Not a whit,
Of the reason for doing
This criminal shit
And then, if he did,
Would it matter a bit?
Not at all!
Because IT IS WRIT:

Our BEIGE-BLANDISH GOD
Tends to CERTIFY IT:

"Only the boring and bland shall survive!
Only the lamest of lameness will thrive!"
Take it or leave it, you won't be alive,
If you are overtly CREATIVE!

Fairies and faggots and queers are
'CREATIVE'
All the best music on Broadway is
'NATIVE'

Who will step forward
And end all this trouble?
For beige-blandish citizens,
Clutching the rubble
Of vanishing dreams
Of wimpish amusement,
Replaced by a rash
Of 'CREATIVE' confusement!

Soon, my brave Zombies,
You'll make your return!
Broadway will glow!
Broadway will burn!
(Along with the remnants of
EVERYTHING NEW)
My HOLY DISEASE will do
Wonders for you!
Those lovely producers
Who paid for you 'then'
Will do it again, and again, and again!

The spying potato (the spying potato!)
With horrible diction (that terrible diction!)
Will rot in the garbage (I can smell it right now!)
When this show's eviction
Takes place shortly after
My alternate skill
Of THEATRICAL SABOTAGE
Triumphs YOUR will!

I've a special review
(Yes I know you really do)
I've been saving for years
(Yes I know you really have)
For a show just like this,
(For a really stupid show)
With POTATOES and QUEERS

I'll say it's disgusting, atrocious, and dull
I'll say it makes boils inside of your skull
I'll say it's the worst-of-the-worst of the year,
No wind down the plain, and it's hard on your ear
I'll say it's the work of an infantile mind
I'll say that it's tasteless, and that you will find
A better excuse to spend money or time
At a Tupper-Ware Party,
So, do be a smarty!
Hold on to that dollar
A little while longer
For spending it here,
Why, it couldn't be wronger!

WHAT'S HAPPENED TO BROADWAY?
WHERE'S IT GONE, ALL THE GLITTER?
THE 'HEART' AND 'SOUL'
THE PATTER?
THE PITTER?

And after this deadly review hits the paper,
In will come ROPER, BENDER & RAPER,
To legally exercute all that remains
Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains

Hold on to that g-string
A little while longer
For bending it here,
Why, it couldn't be wronger!

WHAT'S HAPPENED TO BROADWAY?
WHERE'S IT GONE, ALL THE GLITTER?
THE 'HEART' AND 'SOUL'
THE PATTER?
THE PITTER?

And after this deadly review hits the paper,
In will come ROPER, BENDER & RAPER,
To legally execute all that remains
Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains
Hey hey, hey hey, hey hey, brai-hains . . .