la-la-la-la

La-la-la-la it’s a Saturday night

we’ve got pizza and popcorn and Pepsi.

Becky, she likes David Cassidy, see,

la-la-la; he’s too pretty, for me.

What about Bobby, I hear Stacy say,

she means Bobby Sherman, you see;

I say no, la-la-la, he’s also too pretty

and besides, Bobby Sherman is gay.

He is not, Stacy says, I say, la-la-la-la,

Marybeth says, Tony DeFranco;

I would just die, she says, Tony DeFranco,

I say no, still too pretty for me.

Well who do you like, Miss La-la-la-la,

I tell ‘em, Lancelot Link.

He’s got a good job and he’s one snappy dresser,

so what, who cares if he stinks.

Marybeth calls me crazy, they all hold their noses,

Becky and Stacy say, eww;    

they all turn away and I guess you could say,

la-la-la, our friendship is through.

Now you’ve heard my ordeal, how I lost my “appeal”,

my Secret Chimp secret, revealed;

no more popcorn and pizza and no more sleepovers,

no more la-la-la-la

and now that I’m older—

their jeans may be tight and they may walk upright,

but no matter their size or their shape—

straight, bi or gay, at the end of the day,

boys,

they’re still smelly apes.