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I heard the
Head talk down in the stew
And the Head spoke of what we must do
“Go right to the East Wing”
“Where once you were Stute King”
“There the Big Box does sing for King ture.”
But first head says you must take a drink
No matter how bad the stew does stink
Think of it as Shirley
A gin-tonic swirly
And together we surly will shrink
So cheers my dear, here’s to getting small
To finding the Big Box down East Hall
To Alice in Wonder
To the land down under
Man this stuff reeks utter, like Doc’s stall!
Curiouser and curiouser….
Diminutive stature we two are
I wish we had Stuart Little’s car
To get to the East Wing
Will take us way past spring
I don’t know how we’ll wing it that far?
Hey Red! Look! There’s a Coyote hide.
Say Wild E. can we hitch a ride?
We’re headed toward East
And if you’re a nice beast
A road runner feast we will provide!
What say you Wild E. Coyote?
We promise not to bite like a flea
We’ll just grab your collar
Hold on tight and holler
Hi-Yo Coyote! – Away we three!
Aw wight you
whackos wet me in
Wubber wooms I wealwy wike
C'mon you guys don't waugh at me
my dubba-yews and ells awike
Onwy make me who I am
Now that don't make me bad you see
I pwomise you I will behave
Won't you take me pwetty pwease?
All that stuff I said 'bout Doc
No one bewieved me anyway
Not because it wasn't twue
And there's more, I cannot say
Perhaps if you'll take me awong
We'll find out what a fwaud he is
And then I'll sing my wittle song
You'll wike it wots much more than his!
TEST! What
Test? Nobody said anything
about a
TEST! Damn that Spud, throwing
a test at a
time like this! Anybody got a
number two
crayon?... Thanks Red...
Ok... first
answer is ”C"...”R"...”A"...”Z"...”Y"...
Ahhhhh... no more... No More... NO MORE!.
I can't take
tests! Quick Red... to the
east wing...
looks like Wild E. ain't up for a
ride and Spud
is trying to make us take a test.
Who is this head
says I must drink
this vile goo that you have brewed?
Of race from Easter Isle extinct,
and if so when did he tell you?
No matter I shall raise to lips
odius mixture anyhow
thought most assuredly it is
not fit for man, nor moose, nor cow!
The deed is done gone down the hatch
a bit hirsute not quite to taste
but bring some of that putrid batch
along for there's no time to waste!
I hear faint drum-beats from the East
let's wing it there without delay
for music soothes the savage Beast-
ie Boys is what I always say.
Run, run as
fast as you can… you can’t catch me… I’m the Crayon King Man!
I’ve run away from test givin’ spud Fudd… a talking head in the pan…
And I’m runnin’ for the ‘Stute East Wing, yes in deed I am.
Run, run as fast as you can… you can’t catch me… I’m the Crayon King Man!
Hey, hey Doc Moose I see you’ve had a taste
Of that foul head-cheese soup turned goo-stew paste
Glad you all got small with the rest of us
By chance bring the magical silly bus?
We tried a ride hitched with the Coyote
But Wild E. howled ”Nay” to the peyote
Then Fudd threw a spud with this big ol’ TEST!
Right in the middle of our Big Box quest.
So we’re on the run, headed for the wing
The one to the East where once I was king
We’re hip to the beat of that big base sound
Perhaps we’ll find it in the lost and found
Runnin’ down the hall, runnin’ down the wing
Runnin’ for the sound of the Big Box thing
Lookin’ left and right, lookin’ high and low
Perhaps we’ll find it and put on a show
…. Hey Doc! Where did you get all those
nifty gold
chains and hip stylin’ gym clothes?
Are those
Nike’s you’re wearin’? Man you’re
fly for a
Moose. I’m gonna have to get me
some threads
like that! Cause that’s PHAT!
And
Red! Dang girl! Dem’ sequin hip huggers
are slim shady!
Word!
You don't like
tests? I'd love a test
Drive in the newest Chevrolet
In colours red... and red... and red
Instead of running all the way
Perhaps a test flight in a Jet
Could get us East real quick
But then the test pilot I'm told
Looks like Nurse C. on her broomstick
Not even Dinky Toys in sight
Instead a pair of sneakers red
So run we must from Mini Moose
And Mr. Mashed Potato Head
East Wing... East Wing... where fart art thou?
You never were this far away!
These small red feet shall take me to
The place we used to swing and sway
Oh goodie look we've made it dear
There is the pile of dirty socks
We kept for future gooey stew
And yes we found the 'Stute's Juke Box!
It sure looks mighty huge from here
The Big Box from the Mini Moose?
I see a trail of destruction...
Justin Jailhouse Rock abuse!
C'mon my dear, let's rock the house
I see an entrance at the side
Until da Moose has smashed da Spud
Inside this Juke Box we must hide
"It's now or never...'cause Red won't wait...
surfing the jingles... and swing and sway...
Tomorrow we'll be Moose bait...
It's now or never... it's not too late"
My tiny hooves
just can't keep up
to Drew and Red, falling behind,
and Fudd's attacked acrostic'ly,
that evil midget master-mind!
What can I do in such a state,
that is to say, diminutive,
'tis said that he who hesitates
is lost, so I'm not going to give
an inch, you hear me well E. Fudd
I've not forgotten how to play
so read these words below and get
just scram, vamoose, be on your way!
Sometimes it seems your problems are
All way too big to solve alone
You struggle but don't get too far
Overlooking your funny bone
Now that's the time to pick it up
And wield it as a mighty shield
Right in the face of those like Fudd
And soon you'll find that they will yield
For humor is the best defense
Un-doing even stubborn foes
Don't bother coming back here Fudd
Do and I'll mash your potatoes!
Well that should keep him off my back
at least until I find those two
I think they're on the proper track
to find some more of our old crew
Perhaps an Artiste will appear
and paint a picture so we know
which course to take to get from here
to find out where the rest did go.
Yeah right,
forget to take Justin N.
Only member left of Justin Clan
Yo Moose yer head's gone loose again?
'Cause you of all put Clan in pan
We better hits the road. Vamoose!
Get into gallop them mini hooves
After Fudd! Potato Head!
I'll slice ya up then have ye mashed!
Me knows a lot more of spud games
That's what got me the Justin fame
Unless ye tell me the sober truth
Of where ya hid the King's vermouth
Then hop on back of Moose with N.
And see if there's still a Justin Clan
Yoo-hoo... Yoo-hoo... East Wing! Here we go!
Let's hit the Moose, do some voodoo
Now if ya ”Deer” will volunteer
Here gallop the three musketeers!
Too crazy this I thought were three
Dear Justin N. please excuse me
You see when things are all this small
I may not know who's here at all
C'mon along by all means fast
We must arrive before has passed
our opportunity to see
the picture big awaits, Merci!
For there-in all shall be revealed
or at least a little part
As Pagans 'fore an idol kneeled
we may behold what's known as “Art”
Exposed, he may give us a clue
but now let's listen to the blues...
”Cratchit's
Blues”
Ah cain't get my mo-jo workin'
Drew an' Red have gone away
Justin N. lend me a quarter
on thet juke-box I will play
Somethin' slow an' sad and bluesy
if'n ah kin reach that slot
'bout thet scrub suit wearin' floozie
thet we all miss quite alot
There was those who called her Cratchit
an' then some just plain Nurse C.
Had the keys to all the latches
seemed like we'd never git free
But we woke up one fine mornin'
looked around and she wuz gone
Up an' left without a warnin'
leavin us to ramble on
Now I done heard me a rumor
seems like jest the other day
'bout her an' some baby boomer
gettin' caught down in X-ray
They wuz takin' lots of pictures
lookin' at each other's bones
Doing wierd things with their stetho-scopes
while they though they wuz alone
But the 'puter in the x-ray lab
had a brand new digi-cam
Now ol' cratchit who some thought wuz drab
Down-loads more like”Tom and Pam”
Now i ain't sayin' this is true
cuz you know how rumors go
It seems like there's been one or two
around before yanno?
But then again if she ain't here
no way can she dispute
The blues we sing or who we smear
here in the institute.
Doc Moose, who
are you kidding there?
You know exactly where I’ve been hiding!
Last I remember the key was to Your lair.
These rumors you’ve presented here,
Distill secrets of another one, not me.
Maybe more so of Lady Red I do fear.
Sounds to me like you’ve all gone small,
Like needles to a pine tree falling fast.
I’m on the road to rescue; I’ll be there in a crawl.
Well i'll be
darned this juke-box works
and all it took was one small jerk
on cratchit's chain, or was that trail?
I've over-looked one huge detail!
At present size a quarter weighs
too much! another one to raise
presents a high degree of risk
that one of us will slip a disc
or herniate some other part
so maybe it would be real smart
to try to get back to full size,
“Hey Drew and Red where are you guys?"
If Cratchit catches us this way
that piper I don't want to pay!
But wait, this is the Institute
just click ”Restore” and then re-boot!
But first make sure there's growing room
or this whole thing might go Ka-boom!
Right in our faces once again
“C'mon, let's find them Justin N.”
Well look at
that!
The Big Box scene
A giant juke
For King & Queen
Worletser Neon
Gotta dig the sight
Everything in bright strobe
Delusional fever night
In through the out door
That’s the way to go
Follow the white rabbit
With surrealistic pillow
Diggin’ the posters black
Light the psychedelic
Not sure what it says Red
But it’s most angelic
Say Red, slap me a slug
For a forty-five spin
We’ll drop the diamond
Down on some Led Zeppelin
Stairway to Heaven
Yes indeed you are
Between Page and Plant
It ain’t all that far
How about Donovan
With a shade toward mellow
Or a submarine
By that fab four fellow
A blue dressed devil
From Mitch Rider’s hell
Or Red Rubber Ball
From Tommy’s Shondell
There’s that most hip-cat
That hound dog Elvis
Who makes this King
Swivel his pelvis
Hey look! Sam & Dave
Now there’s some Soul Man
And the Brothers Blue
True loons John & Dan
Mamas and Papas
Three Dog Night
Blood Sweat and Tears
Man! This is out of sight!
So many choices
Witch one should I pick?
Just close my eyes
Make two buttons stick
C-4 sounds great!
A real explosive tune
Light My Fire
Mojo will make them swoon
…”Come on baby light my fire”…
Oh goodie! I
ran into my aunts supremes
and they
reminded me of an old song they
used to sing. They
called it ”You Can't
Hurry
Love", but I found a different copy
by Uncle Phil
right here in the Juke Box:
”We Must Find
The Clan"...
let's swing
and sway 'Drew!
We Must Find The Clan
I need craziness to ease my mind
And some solid proof the Clan resigned
And the Doc said
We must find the Clan
No more can we wait
He said, Clan don't come easy
It is a game within the game
Where is Justin Thyme?
Miss Behavin' with Kace?
Let's find us some Justins
No matter how long it takes
How many headaches
Must we stand
Before we find the Clan
And make them write again
We need them Justine Uff
To keeps us hanging on
Without straitjackets
We are just forlorn
But remember Doc said
We must find the Clan
No more we can wait
He said, Clan won't come easy
They play their game of hide and seek
How long must we wait
How much more must we play
It's Justin Conceivable
They were all in that stew we ate
Now Justin N.
He lives his life alone
And has envisions of a Clan
To call his own
Must he now say goodbye?
Is his Clan now gone?
It's Justin Sanity
That keeps him hanging on
But remember Moose said
We must find the Clan
No, it's never too late
He said, Clan's Justin Famy
They play their game of Justins fake
We must find the Clan
No it's never too late
Just trust on a mean rhyme
No matter how long it takes
Not too late!
The Justin Clan's somewhat hazy
But we keep on waiting
Anticipating
For a sweet voice
Disturb our sleep at night
And some creepy arms
Squeeze Crachet's thigh
We'll keep waiting
Until that day
'Though it ain't easy
No it ain't easy
But the Doc did say
We must find the Clan
No it's never too late!
The Clan's just too lazy
To play the game we love to play
We shall find the Clan
No it's never too late!
Just trust on a mean rhyme
No matter how long it takes
In of this
Justin clan you seek I am but one small part
Pray tell me why in rhymes you speak to join you I will start
Looking for all my brethren here, I came soon as I heard
That some one put this search in gear, which borders on absurd
Let's see if I have got this straight, in jackets with no sleeves
There used to be lots more of you, you would have us believe
Well I don't buy it, no sirree, your brains are cooked well done
'cause I know there are scads of me, who think there is but one.
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