Filk In The Blanks Lyrics & Chords By Tom Smith

Once upon a time, there was a cute little girl,
Who lived with her aging Grandpa,
And who hoped that one day she would travel the world,
And retire to a Norwegian spa.
She picked lots of flowers and sang lots of songs,
For a child, she truly was wise,
So when alien brain-suckers happened along,
That child was truly surprised.

They did the things alien brain-suckers do,
Which mostly means sucking on brains.
They probed places probably best left unprobed,
And showed her brand-new types of pains.
They did things that would've freaked Mulder and Scully,
They aimed and they shot and they scored,
Then they made her forget that she'd ever been sullied,
And dumped her back in the fjord.

So, let this be a lesson to cute little girls,
And to anyone hearing this song:
Don't ever let aliens suck on your brains,
Although the temptation is strong.
You never can face your dear mother again;
If a lawyer, you'll be thrown off the bar.
Only tabloids and Jerry Springer will be your friends,
And you'll get rude phone calls from Ken Starr.

... and, a whole bunch of audience suggestions later...

Once upon a time, there was a crunchy little possum,
Who rotted with its horrified Grandpa,
And who hoped that one day it would plummet off the Eiffel Tower,
And retire to a Disney World spa.
It stomped lots of bedbugs and whirled lots of eggplants,
For a possum, it truly was wise,
So when alien elbow-planers happened along,
That possum was truly surprised.

They did the things alien elbow-planers do,
Which mostly means planing on elbows.
They digested places probably best left undigested,
And showed it brand-new types of Velcros.
They did things that would've bewildered Bonnie & Clyde,
They conjugated and they escaped in a Cadillac Terra,
Then they made it forget that it'd ever been burbled,
And dumped it back on the Sahara.

So, let this be a lesson to crunchy little possums,
And to anyone hearing this song:
Don't ever let aliens plane on your elbows,
Although the temptation is strong.
You never can dance your dear red meat again;
If a spelunker, you'll be thrown off the deli.
Only Matt Drudge and X-Files will be your friends,
And you'll get rude butterscotch from your belly.