Lyrics:

Well well well, now, dis de nasty sucker dat be respondable fo de enwhiffment o de origumal potium
Now in his infinate respondable party personage as de Evil Prince and through de magik o stage-kraft of course
Wes about to see what gwine on in his magikal conjurance up of his little cauldrom of doom
Now check it on out now
Somewhere, over there, I can tell
I guess so
There's the voice of
A potato-headed whatchamacallit
Whoo, do tell
Who does not wish me well
His clothes are quite stupid
And also his shoes
Ain't no bussiness like show business
He's got a big ol' duck-mouth
Who knows how he chews
He thinks he knows something
About THE GREAT PLAN
How ULTIMATE BLANDNESS
Must RULE and COMMAND
He knows not a drop
Not a crumb
Not a whit
Of the reason for doing
This criminal shit
And then, if he did
Would it matter a bit?
Not at all
Because it is writ-
Our BEIGE-BLANDISH GOD
Tends to CERTIFY IT
Only the boring and bland shall survive
Only the lamest of lameness will thrive
Take it or leave it, you won't be alive
If you are overtly CREATIVE
Fairies and faggots and queers are
CREATIVE
All the best music on Broadway is
NATIVE
Who will step forward
And end all this trouble?
For beige-blandish citizens
Clutching the rubble
Of vanishing dreams
Of wimpish amusement
Replaced by a rash
Of CREATIVE confusement
Soon, my brave Zombies
Youll make your return
Broadway will glow
Broadway will burn
Along with the remnants of
Everything new
My HOLY DISEASE will do
Wonders for you
Those lovely producers
Who paid for you then
Will do it again, and again, and again
The spying potato
The spying potato
With horrible diction
And terrible diction
Will rot in the garbage
I can smell it right now
When this shows eviction
Takes place shortly after
My alternate skill
Of THEATRICAL SABOTAGE
Triumphs YOUR will
I've a special review
Yes I know you really do
I've been saving for years
Yes I know you really have
For a show just like this
For a really stupid show
With POTATOES and QUEERS
I'll say it's disgusting, atrocious, and dull
I'll say it makes boils inside of your skull
I'll say it's the worst-of-the-worst of the year
No wind down the plain, and it's hard on your ear
I'll say it's the work of an infantile mind
I'll say that it's tasteless, and that you will find
A better excuse to spend money or time
At a Tupper-Ware Party, wee-oo
So, do be a smarty
Oo-oo-wee-oo
Hold on to that dollar
A little while longer
For spending it here
Why, it couldn't be wronger
What's happened to Broadway?
Where's it gone, all the glitter?
The heart and soul
The patter?
The pitter?
And after this deadly review hits the paper
In will come ROPER, BENDER & RAPER
To legally execute all that remains
Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains
Drug-addled brains, drug addled brains
Hold on to that g-string
A little while longer
For spending it here
Why, it couldn't be wronger
What's happened to Broadway?
Where's it gone, all the glitter?
The heart and soul
The patter?
The pitter?
And after this deadly review hits the paper
In will come ROPER, BENDER & RAPER
To legally execute all that remains
Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains
Hey hey, hey hey, hey hey, brai-hains...