The Final Meltdown
To the tune of The Final Countdown by Europe
FANS:
He’s our superhero
The real Iron Man
But one thing he’s lacking
Is attention span
MUSK:
Where are the aliens? Really odd that we see no sign of them.
FANS:
His Trump-like gaslighting must stop
The midnight tweets (midnight tweets)
We need him to build some frickin’ cars
It’s the final meltdown
The final meltdown
MUSK:
Funding secured.
FANS:
Oh
I ordered a Tesla
Been waiting for years
Still stuck on my Vespa
While he’s in arrears
He’s some kind of shrewd psychopath
And that’s why we sing
(why we sing)
This song from a dumb Geico ad
It’s the final meltdown
MUSK:
Going to create a site where the public can rate the core truth of any article.
FANS:
The final meltdown
MUSK:
… Thinking of calling it Pravda …
FANS:
The final meltdown
FANS:
The final meltdown
It’s the final meltdown
MUSK:
How much time does a woman want a week? Maybe 10 hours?
FANS:
The final meltdown
MUSK:
That’s kind of the minimum? I don’t know.
FANS:
It’s the final meltdown
MUSK:
A kid-sized submarine.
FANS:
The final meltdown
MUSK:
These questions are so dry. They’re killing me.
SELL IT NOW
To the tune of Feel it Still by Portugal
Can’t keep my home for myself
Think I’ll cut the price,
move it quickly off the shelf
In case some very rich guy is in need
Are they coming out of left field?
Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee now
I been wanting to move since Two Thousand Six, now
Tri-state home writeoffs now, almost over, still
Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee now
Moving south in few months, maybe six now
Low state and local taxes, gladly pay ‘em still
Gotta lot of mouths to feed
Low tri-state home tax deduction hurts home-owners in need
I’m gone with the falling leaves
Some rich buyer coming out of left field?
Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee, now
I been wanting to move since Two Thousand Six, now
I had my taxes fill… my wallet feels it still.
Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee, now
Gotta move to Texas in the six months, now
Low taxes call, and I feel it still
Oh, yeah! Sell the Greenwich house for cheap now
Go for easy Southern living
Goodbye tristate hopes and dreams
Start flipping for my enemies
We could sell condos ‘til the walls come down
Oh, yeah! Sell the Greenwich house for cheap now
I’ll give you a little tip
Don’t be in the middle man!
Don’t buy ‘til it sells
Don’t bother me
No more buying
‘Til lower taxes
No more buying
‘Til lower taxes
No more buying
No more taxes now
Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee, now
It’s a money sink
I can’t deduct the tax now
Tri-state’s over now,
but I pay it still
Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee, now
Hope to sell the house number six, now
I’ve had my fill,
please someone buy it still
#MeToo Medley
To the tune of Mister Cellophane by John Kander & Fred Ebb &
Hit ‘Em Up Style by Blu Cantrell
MEN:
If someone said he liked your dress
And you ignored him nonetheless
And he said again how great you look
You’d welcome it
If someone came up from behind
Said, “Babe, I can read your mind”
Touched your hand and rubbed your neck
You’d welcome it
Or let’s say you stayed in the same hotel
And he sent you a bottle of chilled Moselle
Then showed up in a bathrobe slightly loose
Would you call that sexual abuse?
WOMEN:
While he was flirting
I was skirting his advances diverting
All the while I was anxious and hurting
Till I found a better way to lock down those roving hands
See, I went
To file a lawsuit charging sex harassment
With twenty counts of “repulsive attraction”
And when his lawyer called I turned down one hundred K
(oops) There goes his corner with a view
(oops) There goes his office barbeque
(oops) There goes his parking space
‘cause he victimized me
And that’s for that now
(oops) There goes his smarmy little smile
(oops) There goes his subterfuge and his style
(oops) For all his cheating style
This makes it worthwhile
Hey ladies
When the perv want to reconcile
Say hell no and put him on trial
Put your motions in motion
And give it like he gave it
File affidavits
Oh, make your claims of gross turpitude
When he claims he was just misconstrued
Yeah, you better let him know
That if he gets cute
You’re gonna file a suit
ALL MEN:
Vilified,
Yes, and demonized
We’ve been stigmatized,
Now we’re ostracized
When all we want’s to meet you
You scream #MeToo
We never get one kiss
Yes we’ve been Weinstein-ized
Yes and Lauer-ized
We’ve been Charlie-ized
Now we’re Keillor-ized
When all we want’s to meet you
You scream #MeToo
We never get one kiss
WOMEN:
While he’s molestin’
Be recording on your phone and protestin’
Call up H.R. and request an assessment
You better make sure that horndog is on a leash.
Call the Times
Get an interview on CNN
For a special on disgraceful men
The job he had just fades away, away.
WOMEN:
(oops) There goes his virtuous repute
(oops) There goes his golden parachute
(oops) There goes that big galoot
‘cause he mortified me
And that’s for that now
(oops) There goes that nasty neck massage
(oops) In the company garage
(oops) ‘Cause he self-sabotaged
That’s just how it goes
MEN:
Suppose this suitor was your boss
Just trying to put his point across
Without his wife and kids involved
You’d welcome it
Suppose upon your job review
You’d get an extra point or two
For flashing me one little smile
You’d welcome it
To sum up, ladies,
This is our lament
About our well-intentioned compliments
We get the reputation for our works
As dunderheaded
Womanizing
Total jerks.
Gave you candy canes
Wrapped in cellophane
When all we want’s to meet you
You scream #MeToo
We never get one kiss
WOMEN:
Hey ladies
When the perv wants to reconcile
Say hell no and put him on trial
Put your motions in motion and give it like he gave it
File affidavits
Oh, make your claims of gross turpitude
When he claimes he was just misconstrued
Yeah, you better let him know
That if he gets cute
You’re gonna file suit
MEN:
Yes, we’ve been Weinstein-ized
Yes, and Lauer-ized
We’ve been Charlie-ized
Now we’re Keillor-ized
When all we want’s to meet you
You scream #MeToo
We never get one kiss
Never
Even
Got
WOMEN:
All my ideals and hope
Undermined by this dope
What happened to the days when
We used to trust each other
Now all his furtive gropes
Are under a fat microscope
Now I hope he goes to prison
‘cause to end his injustice
Is better than cash
Hey ladies
When the perv wants to reconcile
Say hell no and put him on trial
Put your motions in motion and give it to him like he gave it
File affidavits
Oh make your claims of gross turpitude
When he claims he was just misconstrued
Yeah, you better let him know
That if he gets cute
You’re gonna file a suit
Hey ladies
When the perv wants to reconcile
Say hell no and put him on trial
Put your motions in motion and give it to him like he gave it
File affidavits
Oh make your claims of gross turpitude
When he claims he was just misconstrued
Yeah, you better let him know
That if he gets cute
You’re gonna file a suit
Condos by The Ocean
To the tune of Cake by the Ocean by DNCE
Oh…
Hey fool!
Spending all your money on your missiles
Don’t you wanna be like me, a mogul?
Do a deal with me and it will bankroll your rule.
Hah.
Wasting time with the atom bomb,
don’t waste time with the atom bomb, ha
You should be dealing with me,
you should be dealing with me
Oh, We can meet in Singapore for a flashy photo-op
Oo, We don’t even need a peace treaty,
it can all be a fantasy
Deal with me, baby
I’m gonna make you rich off your beaches, whoa
Just let me put some spas in your gulags
Ah ya ya ya ya ya
I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
Deal with me, baby
I’ll get ratings, you’ll get casinos, whoa
Just let me put some spas in your gulags
Ah ya ya ya ya ya
I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
Hey son
See your people standing at attention
Wish I had that kind of admiration
I’m tired of my loser Constitution,
Jong Un, oh
Wasting time with the atom bomb,
don’t waste time with the atom bomb, ha
You should be dealing with me,
you should be dealing with me, oh
We can meet in Singapore for a flashy photo-op, oo
We don’t even need a peace treaty,
it can all be a fantasy
Whoa
Deal with me, baby
I’m gonna make you rich off your beaches, whoa
Just let me put some spas in your gulags
Ah ya ya ya ya ya
I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
Deal with me, baby
I’ll get ratings, you’ll get casinos, whoa
Just let me put some spas in your gulags
Ah ya ya ya ya ya
I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
Oh ah
Ah ya ya ya ya ya
I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
Oh ah
Ah ya ya ya ya ya
I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
We’re so seditious…
Talk to me, Kim
Deal with me, baby
I’m gonna make you rich off your beaches, whoa
Just let me put some spas in your gulags
Ah ya ya ya ya ya
I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
Deal with me, baby
I’ll get ratings, you’ll get casinos, whoa
Just let me put some spas in your gulags
Ah ya ya ya ya ya
I keep on hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
We could get the Nobel Peace prize with the deal
Obama, he got one, so this should be a steal
We could get the Nobel Peace
Ya ya ya ya ya
I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean
PUERTO RICO
To the tune of Despactio by Luis Fonsi
BANKERS:
Ay
Palm trees!
Trustees!
Oh
Oh no, oh no
Oh
Oh yeah
De-li-de-li-de-li-de-linquent
Go!
Look, trust us that we cherish your tropical colony
We come from a little island, too
Manhattan
Hey, too bad about your infecundous economy
Looks like there’s some interest overdue
Oh
When, when punters wet their pants for Puerto Rico bonds
High-grade, triple-tax-free and with a fabulous yield
Bought our Maseratis with the underwriting fees
Oh yeah
Now, now your bad luck,
you owe seventy billion bucks
Which, of course, is more than you could ever pay
All your goodwill ain’t worth a steaming pile of feces
Despacito
PUERTO RICANS
Cut, cut. Stop the music. You ladrones stole our money and now you’re stealing our song? Who do you think you are, Justin Bieber?
BANKERS:
We can help you with your little bankruptcito
We know how to deal with cash emergencitos
We’re the brains, you’re the debtor in “el possessionito”
Despacito
Words turns into Spanish just by adding –ito
When we are in San Juan we drink mojito-itos
And look out for the Zika from the infected ‘squitos
(ito, ito, ito, ito, ito)
Here in brief is how we scammed you
Sorry but we had to
When everything went swiftly southward
No one else would buy our issues
(buy our issues, buy our issues, baby)
That’s when we sold them to you,
the dopes of Puerto Rico
Sold you on the need for safety
Although we knew they were hella shaky
PUERTO RICANS
Pendejos! That’s our retirement! Give us our money back!
BANKERS:
Your complaining is faintly ridiculous
Our legality’s meticulous
Foxy, yes, but we’re not villainous
Don’t be jiving as if we’re Caligulas
PREPA, PRASA, GDB,
Cofina and G.O. bond, bond
PREPA, PRASA, GDB,
Cofina and G.O. bond, bond
A stormy kind of romance with a whirlwind named Maria
FEMA, FEMA, FEMA ain’t coming and you’re eating wet tortillas
You keep calling D.C.
They say wait until mañana
You’ve been treated worse than our pet iguana
PUERTO RICANS
Yeah, you noticed?
BANKERS
Not our problem!
Deadbeato, deadbeato,
bankrupt, bankruptcito
You can’t even pay for a cold cuchifrito
So you’ve been surviving on aspirin and breadfruit
While the attorneys and bankers are trying to get cute
Deadbeato, deadbeato, bankrupt, bankruptcito
You can’t even pay for a cold cuchifrito
‘though you got Promesa, we ain’t Mother Theresa
Relief for San Juan is slower than a glacier
Despacito
Words turn into Spanish just by adding –ito
When we are in San Juan we drink mojito-itos
And look out for the Zika from infected ‘squitos
(ito, ito, ito, ito, ito)
Here in brief is how we scammed you
Sorry but we had to
When everything went swiftly southward
No one else would buy our issues (buy our issues, buy our issues, baby)
That’s when we sold them to you,
the dopes of Puerto Rico
Sold you on the need for safety
Although we knew they were hella shaky
Despacito
PUERTO RICANS
Yanquis, go home!
BANKERS:
This is how we do it down in Puerto Rico
Taking guidance from the M.D.’s on Wall Street
Going by the model in our little spreadsheet
PUERTO RICANS:
Wall Street-o, Wall Street-o,
money’s your libido
You are headed toward a complete-o, defeat-o
While we enlisted in Army
You chose Princeton, Yale, and Harvard
Elite-o, elite-o,
money’s your libido
You are headed for a complete-o, defeat-o
ALL:
Bankruptcy is warfare wholly
As this ordeal unwinds slowly, slowly
Despacito
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