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After one harmless crack about his "harem", Mr. Funny Hat declared that the Vienna Boys Choir will NEVER sing "The Ballad of Smugglers' Inn". Line forms to the left, Papi.
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The Ballad of Smugglers' Inn
(To the tune of "Ho da fare un drama buffo" from Rossini's Il Turco en Italia)
SINGER: Our
restaurant was, like, awesome, great.
Each night we served 200 plates, of lobster, shrimp and blackened
steak. Our bartenders scored like Penn State. But that was 1978. Oh, cry for SMUGGLERS’ INN!
CHORUS: Smugglers’ Inn!
Smugglers, Inn! Oh, glory days,
where have you been? You’d think that
puffed sleeves weren’t in. Oh, cry for
Smugglers’ Inn!
SINGER: The take is
off more every year. Theme restaurants
have grown passe’. We keep the lights
on, god knows how, but the chowder’s sometimes nas-tay.
CHORUS: Smugglers
Inn! Smugglers Inn! You might have died like Gunga Dinn. But you didn’t know when to pack it. 'Da World don't need one more has-been. You’re evicted, Smugglers’ Inn!
SINGER: The end had
come, we couldn’t doodle. We had to sell
kits and kaboodles. We broke out a case
of Boodles. Martini-fueled, we wrote
some ads. To hawk our broiler, bar and
dishes. Plus some pretty fake stuffed
fishes.
Suck the corpse of Smugglerss’ Inn! “Disco’s dead but we’ve kept its balls.” “Two
hundred for a wine cooler? We must be
drunk.”
Our ads stood out in “Trading Times”, In “Business Trader”, a sensation. Then Conan reads some on
Late Night, in front of the whole nation.
“Who would have predicted?
To creativity we were now addicted.”
CHORUS: Smuggler’s Inn!
Smugglers’ Inn! From Surf ‘n Turf
to new business wins. The unlikliest
agency that’s ever been! And if we don’t
run out gin, we’re bound to win a lion or at least a pin. Hurray for Smugglers’ Inn! God Bless America!
VOICES (OUT): “Let’s
do lunch.” “I’m Ramone, I’ll be your
creative director…can I start you with a web page?” “Ha-ha-ha!
You should be writing this…”
