Lyrics

So many words. My teeth hurt

In just one week we’ve all had to hear
More imagined slights that made you angry
Five days when you oft repeat
About the lack of garages and driveways on your street
Three days from your hotel room
Without a working Google machine, but what can you do?
Thursday was a Thursday show
So all of our expectations are real low

Listen up you’ll hear the show stinks
And you know the host drinks
And all he talks about are traffic jams
Local reports, rarely sports, and you find his temper’s short
You’re so perplexed that like Orakpo you say “C’mon man!”

Podcasts are flowin’ during drive-times
Big waste of our time
But it’s infectious like a bird flu

That Fineman brings the hot tips, not just the quick Fix
Covers elections with a folkie view

There’ll be more joking bout the choking
That’s now broken Nati’nals hoping
That its possible they’ll ever take a Series

Gonna let us know about the dough
He could have blown except that no
Cause he’s so Big Time Littles tend to send him stuff for free

How can we help it if we think it’s funny when you're mad
If you feel lousy, well it only makes the Littles glad
He’s the kind of guy who begs for a snow shovel
Please avoid the Purple Line
Or he’ll be up -- in your grill
He has propensities that border on delusional
He likes to tell us that he pays too much for shirts

Oh for one week how we’d like to hear
Someone else on the air who sounds less crazy
Liz Clarke on a Tuesday morn
Givin it to Tony and sighing at the Boss songs
Day three it’s a weekly treat
To hear about dysmorphic birds from your friend Nancy
Someday you just might retreat
But we won’t hold our breath ‘til you say you're sorry

After "Bare Naked Ladies" song of the same name