The credits roll, the camera pans
|
And in the mist our hero stands
|
He starts to speak, then folds his hands in prayer
|
An awkward pause, then what's my line?
|
There's nothing left to say this time
|
And what would you say to a bad guy who's not there?
|
In terms of Roman numberals,
|
He's IV league with Roman Polanski
|
He'd win an Oscar every time if he was only given the chance
|
|
He started on the Broadway stage
|
A product of another age,
|
An offer and a pilot drew him west
|
The series bombed, commercials came
|
And though nobody knew his name
|
They all recognized the potential he possessed
|
Deodorants and dental floss
|
And how much does that new car cost
|
His acting was methodical in You Don't Need A Medical
|
He's branded like a racing car,
|
He's like a movie star with movies
|
The week of Independence Day,
|
The casting agent called to say
|
Your smile could save our movie and the world
|
|
Buy buy buy buy
|
Sell sell sell
|
How well you learn
|
To not discern
|
Who's foe and who is friend
|
We'll own them all in the end
|
|
It goes like this, we have no choice; the minarets,
|
The wailing voice
|
And vaguely Celtic music fills the air
|
We choose a foreigner to hate,
|
The new Iraq gets more irate
|
We really know nothing about them, and no one cares
|
Aladdin and the forty thieves
|
Enhanced by brand new special effects
|
Saddam and his cow disease spiced up
|
With some gratuitous sex
|
A movie's made, a war is won
|
A low-speed chase, a smoking gun
|
Distracts us while the actor takes the stand
|
|
Buy buy buy buy
|
Sell sell sell
|
How well you learn
|
To not discern
|
Who's foe and who is friend
|
We'll own them all in the end
|
|
-----------------
|
Sell Sell Sell
|
| Barenaked Ladies |
