You’ve Got To Be Kidding is parody. Pull up a chair and sign out loud. Those listening to you at the Starbucks will think you’re crazy, but that’s half the fun!
Part of what makes a visit to Disneyland so special is the music. In particular, classic songs by the likes of the Sherman Brothers, Xavier Atencio, and George Bruns are fundamental to the immersive experience. These songs do an excellent job of telling the attractions’ stories. However, they do not tell the story of what it is like to listen to the songs themselves. Following are some alternate lyrics intended to right that wrong.
Let’s start with a sea chanty that no one can resist.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.
We sing out the first line and make a big show.
Sing out, me ‘earties, yo ho.
Then suddenly realize it’s all that we know.
Get quiet me ‘earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.
We mutter, we mumble, we murmur, we hum.
Sing soft, me ‘earties, yo, ho.
We stumble and stammer and then are struck dumb.
Dead still me ‘earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.
There’s mention of pillage and sacking the town.
Recall, me ‘earties yo ho.
And pilfer and plunder. What else was there now?
We’re lost, me ‘earties yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.
Wait! “Drink up me ‘earties” is part of the song.
Drink up, me ‘earties, yo ho.
But that is the limit, the rest is long gone.
Give up, me ‘earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates’ life for me.
So we will keep singing the first line real proud.
Sing out me ‘earties, yo ho.
Then falter and fumble and fake it real loud.
Who cares, me ‘earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me.
Next, let’s revisit an attraction that also has a boat, but a much more diminutive collection of inhabitants.
It is sung in Spanish and Japanese,
It is sung in French and sung by the Swedes.
Whether at the North Pole or deep under the sea
It’s that blasted Small World song.
It’s the song we love to hate.
It’s the song we love to hate.
It’s the song we love to hate.
It’s that blasted Small World song.
It’s a song redundant, a song we fear.
It’s a song that haunts us and brings us to tears.
From the speakers it blares and we all are aware
It’s that messed up Small World song.
It’s the song we love to hate.
It’s the song we love to hate.
It’s the song we love to hate.
It’s that messed up Small World song.
There is just one thing we swear to be true.
That we’ll do our best to wipe out that tune.
But then try as we may we still hum it all day.
It’s that fiendish Small World song.
It’s the song we hate to love.
It’s the song we hate to love.
It’s the song we hate to love.
It’s that fiendish Small World song.
And finally, a haunting little song,
When the ride starts out and the song begins,
Spooks sing out and we’re joining in.
We begin to vocalize.
Then with horror we realize.
Tongue twisting words, we never can get right.
So we close our eyes and we concentrate
On the silly words at the ghostly wake.
Trying ’til our brains get fried
And our tongues are paralyzed.
Grin Grimming ghosts. No, wait that isn’t right.
We all get red-faced o’er our goings on,
Failing at the sing along.
Each attempt another bomb.
What seems right all turns out wrong.
Green, greasy guts. No wait that’s the wrong song.
When the ghosts hitchhike with an upturned thumb
We know the trip is nearly done.
We begin to compromise
And the words we improvise.
Gin swilling ghosts. That’s wrong but not too bad.
As we climb out of our doom buggy
The song plays slower and more quietly.
One last chance to win the fight.
Don’t give in to our stage fright.
Grim, grinning ghosts. Hooray we got it right!