Lyrics

Howard Fineman, sidecar-ing with Torie
Reminiscing about Iron City. Hey, let’s go to Primanti’s!
And get a kielbasa and cheese!

Satchmo frowns
At the sound
On the show, of the Crazy Twain of Yinzers

Hear the Donnie Iris cover band
Down on the South Side, I need to get an Uber ride
There’s no one driving this van
How am I gonna get to the Warhol n’at?

Hands down
these awful sounds
Out of the mouths of the Crazy Twain of Yinzers


In terms of critical commentary, native Pittsburghers often cultivate a grotesque panoply of lazy vowels and an abhorrent idiom that reduces a sentence like:

“Are you two going to Heinz Field for the Steeler game?”
to
“Hey, Yinz goin’ dahntahn ta da Stiller game n’at?”

Icy roads are “slippy,”
nosy people are “nebby,”
and Narisetti is a “jag-off.”

It is enough to make an English Writing major want to stick a meat thermometer in his ears.