Music Terms Misunderstood by Country Musicians

  • Diminished Fifth — An empty bottle of Jack Daniels
  • Perfect Fifth — A full bottle of Jack Daniels
  • Ritard — There’s one in every family
  • Relative Major — An uncle in the Marine Corps
  • Relative Minor — A girlfriend
  • Big Band — When the bar pays enough to bring two banjo players
  • Pianissimo — “Refill this beer bottle”
  • Repeat — What you do until they just expel you
  • Treble — Women ain’t nothin’ but
  • Bass — The things you run around in softball
  • Portamento — A foreign country you’ve always wanted to see
  • Conductor — The man who punches your ticket to Birmingham
  • Arpeggio — “Ain’t he that storybook kid with the big nose that grows?”
  • Tempo — Good choice for a used car
  • A 440 — The highway that runs around Nashville
  • Transpositions — Men who wear dresses
  • Cut Time — Parole
  • Order of Sharps — What a wimp gets at the bar
  • Passing Tone — Frequently heard near the baked beans at family barbecues
  • Middle C — The only fruit drink you can afford when food stamps are low
  • Perfect Pitch — The smooth coating on a freshly paved road
  • Tuba — A compound word: “Hey, woman! Fetch me another tuba Bryll Cream!”
  • Cadenza — That ugly thing your wife always vacuums dog hair off of when company comes
  • Whole Note — What’s due after failing to pay the mortgage for a year
  • Clef — What you try never to fall off of
  • Bass Clef — Where you wind up if you do fall off
  • Altos — Not to be confused with “Tom’s toes,” “Bubba’s toes” or “Dori-toes”
  • Minor Third — Your approximate age and grade at the completion of formal schooling
  • Melodic Minor — Loretta Lynn’s singing dad
  • 12-Tone Scale — The thing the State Police weigh your tractor trailer truck with
  • Quarter Tone — What most standard pickups can haul
  • Sonata — What you get from a bad cold or hay fever
  • Clarinet — Name used on your second daughter if you’ve already used Betty Jo
  • Cello — The proper way to answer the phone
  • Bassoon — Typical response when asked what you hope to catch, and when
  • French Horn — Your wife says you smell like a cheap one when you come in at 4 a.m.
  • Cymbal — What they use on deer-crossing signs so you know what to sight-in your pistol with
  • Bossa Nova — The car your foreman drives
  • Time Signature — What you need from your boss if you forget to clock in
  • First Inversion — Grandpa’s battle group at Normandy
  • Staccato — How you did all the ceilings in your mobile home
  • Major Scale — What you say after chasing wild game up a mountain: “Darn! That was a major scale!”
  • Aeolian Mode — How you like Mama’s cherry pie
  • Bach Chorale — The place behind the barn where you keep the horses

Rolling Blackout Theme Song

To the theme music from the TV western “Rawhide”

Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’,
Though the state is golden,
Keep them blackouts rollin’, statewide.
A little colder weather,
And we all freeze together,
Wishin’ more plants were on the line.
All the things I’m missin’,
Like lights and television,
Are waiting ’til we can pay the price.

Turn ’em on, turn ’em off,
Shut ’em down, block ’em out,
Turn ’em on, turn ’em off, statewide!
Brown ’em out, black ’em out,
Charge ’em more, give ’em less,
Let the polls fix the mess, statewide!

Keep movin’, movin’, movin’,
Though they’re disapprovin’,
Keep them rates a-movin’, statewide.
Don’t try to understand ’em,
Just raise, charge, and collect ’em.
Soon we’ll be livin’ high and wide.
My heart’s calculatin’,
Nuclear plants will be waitin’,
Be waitin’ at the end of my ride.

Turn ’em on, turn ’em off,
Shut ’em down, block ’em out,
Turn ’em on, turn ’em off, statewide!
Brown ’em out, black ’em out,
Charge ’em more, give ’em less,
Let the polls fix the mess, statewide!
STATEWIDE!!! Hyaah!!

Object Oriented Bohemian Rhapsody

Is this the real world?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a LAN-slide
No ESC to reality.
open(2) your files,
Look after your while()s in C;
Its just a cheap toy, but dearer than Symphony(tm)
With it’s wheezy cough, noisy beep
Address clash, little sleep
Anything but Windows(tm),
Nothing beats class lib’ries to me,
To me.

Just killed a RAM
Got some static on its pins,
Now I don’t see the dust bin,
‘Write’ had just been run,
But now I’ve got to throw it all away
Mama, ooooooh, Didn’t mean to make it fry
If I’ve no stack to overflow tomorrow,
Carry one, carry one,
‘Cause there’s nothing like class lib’ries.

Too late,
My time(2) has come
Send lightning down my line
Stop my make(1) before it’s time
Goodbye, everybody, I’ve got to go,
Gotta leave you all behind and read Knuth.

Mama, ooooooh, (Anything but Windows(tm))
I don’t want to *sigh*
I sometimes wish I’d never known Bourne at all.

I see a little silhouetto of a man(1),
Scarramouche, Scarramouche,
Did you run the test script yet?
Thunderbolt and lightning,
Blowing up my modem, me.
Gone away now,
Gone away now,
Gone away now, Windows(tm) froze.
Its worse than crap (oh oh oh oh)

It’s just a cheap toy, ev’rybody has three
It’s just a cheap toy from a cheap company
Spare us our lifes from this monstrosity!
Wheezy cough, noisy beep, will you let us sleep?
Drink Miller! GNU! We will not let you sleep!
(let us sleep!)
Drink Miller! GNU! We will not let you sleep!
(let us sleep!)
Drink Miller! Will not let you sleep
(let us sleep!)
Will not let you sleep (let us sleep!)
Will not let you sleep (let us sleep!)
Oh Mama mia, mama mia,
Mama mia, let us sleep!
Be-el-ze-Gates has a widget put beside my tree,
my tree,
my tree!

So you think you can force me to use XP?
So you think you can love me and leave me no drives?
Oh, baby,
Can’t do this to me baby,
Just gotta c-out, just gotta get write(2) out of here.

Nothing beats class lib’ries,
Anything in C,
Nothing beats class lib’ries,
Nothing beats class lib’ries to me.

Ode to the Little Brown Shack Out Back

They past an ordinance in the town
Said we’d have to tear it down
That little brown shack out back so dear to me
Though the health department said
It’s day was over and dead
It will stand forever in my memory

Don’t let ’em tear that little brown building down
Don’t let ’em tear that little brown building down
Don’t let ’em tear that little brown building down
There’s not another like it in the country or the town

It was not too long ago
That I went tripping through the snow
Out to that house behind my old hound dog
Where I’d sit me down to rest
Like a snow bird on her nest
And read the Sears and Roebuck catalog

I would hum a happy tune
Peeping through the quarter moon
Just like my Pappy’s kin had done before
It was in that quiet pot
Daily cares could be forgot
And it gave the same relief to rich and poor

It was not a castle fair
I could build my future there
Build castles to the yellow jacket’s drone
I could orbit round the sun
Fight with General Washington
Or be a king upon his own throne

It wasn’t fancy built at all
Had newspapers on the wall
It was air conditioned in the wintertime
It was just a humble hut
But it’s door was never shut
And a man could get inside without a dime

Written by Billy Edd Wheeler

New Age Lullaby

Hush little baby don’t you squall
Momma’s gonna buy you a crystal ball

And if you still can’t see beyond
Momma’s gonna buy you a magic wand

And if that wand don’t change your fate
Momma’s gonna teach you to levitate

And if the astral makes you sick,
Momma’s gonna buy you an incense stick

And if that patchouli smells too rank
She’ll buy you a sensory deprivation tank

And if that tank don’t float your bones
Momma’s gonna buy you some precious stones

And if those gems don’t ease your heart
Momma’s gonna buy you a natal chart

And if your planets go berserk
Momma’s gonna buy you some bodywork

And if your aura still needs kneading
Momma’s gonna buy you a past life reading

And if your destiny stays hid
Momma’s gonna buy you a pyramid

And if your chakras still feel stressed
Momma’s gonna take you on a vision quest

And if power animals don’t come to charm ya
Sorry, kid, it’s just your karma.

Walkin’ Round In Women’s Underwear

(The Marv Albert Song)
(Tune: Winter Wonderland)

NBC has rehired Marv Albert. Other employees reportedly don’t really want him in the company again. He’s a back biter. On the other hand, NBC reports that their sports programming needed a little more bite to it.

Lacy things — the wife is missin,
Didn’t ask — her permission,
I’m wearin’ her clothes,
Her silk pantyhose,
Walkin’ round in women’s underwear.

In the store — there’s a teddy,
Little straps — like spaghetti,
It holds me so tight,
Like handcuffs at night,
Walkin’ round in women’s underwear.

In the office there’s a guy named Marvin,
He pretends that I am Murphy Brown.
He’ll say, “Are you ready?” I’ll say, “Whoa, Man!”
“Let’s wait until our wives are out of town!”

Later on, if you wanna,
We can dress — like Madonna,
Put on some eyeshade,
And join the parade,
Walkin’ round in women’s underwear!

Leroy The Gold-Toothed Reindeer

Leroy the gold-toothed reindeer
Had a very nappy fro
And if you ever saw him
He was at the liquor sto

All of Leroy’s homeboys
Use to playa hate his game
But they can’t mess with Leroy
‘Cause he got a big ole thang

Then one smoggy Christmas day
Santa came to say
“Leroy have you seen my sleigh?
I know you had it the other day.”

So Leroy broke out runnin’
And Santa pulled out his nine
And Santa shot poor Leroy
Dead in his black behind…

The Ballad of the Bobbit Hillbillies

(Sung to the tune of the Beverly Hillbillies)

Come and listen to my story of a man named John
A poor ex-marine with a little fraction gone.
It seems one night right after gettin’ with his wife,
She lopped off his schlong with the swipe of a knife.
(Penis that is)
(Clean cut, missed his nuts)

Well the next thing you know there’s a Ginsu by his side,
And Lorena’s in the car takin’ Willie for a ride.
She soon got tired of her purple headed friend,
And tossed him out the window as she came around the bend.
(Curve that is)
(Pricker shrubs, wheel hubs)

She went to the cops and confessed to the attack,
And they called out the hounds just to get his weenie back. They
sniffed and they barked and they pointed “over there”, To John
Wayne’s Henry that was waving in the air.
(Found that is)
(By the fence, evidence)

Now Peter and John couldn’t stay apart too long,
So a dick dock said, “Hey, I can fix your dong!”
“A needle and a thread is all you’re gonna need.”
And the whole world waited ’till they heard that Johnny peed.
(Whizzed that is)
(Even seam, straight stream)

Well he healed and he hardened and he took his case to court, With
a cockeyed lawyer since his assets came up short.
They cleared her of assault and acquitted him of rape,
And his pecker was the only thing they didn’t show on tape.
(Video, that is)
(Unexposed, case closed)

I Was Petrified

(To the tune of Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”)

At first I was afraid, I was petrified.
By the ugly wanker that was lying by my side.
I would’ve drunk a little less, I would’ve tried to keep my head,
If I’d known for just one second I’d be in your crusty bed…

I tried to go, walk out the door.
But I laughed so hard at your small knob that I’ve fallen on the floor.
Your butts a pimply mess, it’s just a broken-out disgrace,
But I’d rather look at that, than at your fucken ugly face..!

I want to go, I’ve got to leave.
Your talk of chicks and football really makes me want to heave.
I only know I’ve got to stop my drinking spirits and the beer
Coz when I looked at you last night, you looked just like that Richard Gere!

I can’t believe, that we both shagged.
You should be wearing concrete shoes or simply bound and gagged.
I’m fucking off right now, I’m jumping on the flippin’ train and I’m not
stopping till I’m home and washed your greeblies down the drain.

Please let me go, I feel quite sick,
We had the worst sex in the world and you’re an ugly prick
I should have shagged your gorgeous mate, at least he’s got a lovely flat
But no I go and trust the booze and now I’m stuck with you, you twat.

It’s time to go, run out the door.
You look so ugly it should really be against the law.
I’m going to give up all the booze, I’m going to have no stupid fun
Coz waking up beside your mug, just makes me want to be a nun!

Humble Pie

To the tune of Don McLean’s “American Pie”

A long, long week ago
I can still remember how the market used to make me smile
What I’d do when I had the chance
Is get myself a cash advance
And add another tech stock to the pile.
But Alan Greenspan made me shiver
With every speech that he delivered.

Bad news on the rate front
Still I’d take one more punt.
I can’t remember if I cried
When I heard about the CPI.
I lost my fortune and my pride
The day the NASDAQ died.

So bye-bye to my piece of the pie.
Now I’m gettin’ calls for margin
‘Cause my cash account’s dry.
It’s just two weeks from a new all-time high.
And now we’re right back where we were in July.
We’re right back where we were in July.

Did you buy stocks you never heard of?
QCOM at 150 or above?
‘Cos George Gilder told you so
Now do you believe in Home Depot?
Can Wal-Mart save your portfolio?
And can you teach me what’s a P/E ratio?
Well, I know that you were leveraged too
So you can’t just take a long-term view.

Your broker shut you down
No more margin could be found.
I never worried on the whole way up
Buying dot coms from the back of a pickup truck.
But Friday I ran out of luck
It was the day the NAAAASDAQ died.

I started singin’
Bye-bye to my piece of the pie.
Now I’m gettin’ calls for margin
‘Cause my cash account’s dry.
It’s just two weeks from a new all-time high.
And now we’re right back where we were in July.
Yeah we’re right back where we were in July.