Little Saint Chip

(Sung to the tune of the Beach Boys' "Little Saint Nick")

Well, just about the time that the Birds looked dead

Came a little fat man

With his offense spread.

And this real famous cat ran his plays so quick

That in just four weeks he'd lost Michael Vick.

It's our Little Saint Chip

(Little Saint Chip).

It's our Little Saint Chip

(Little Saint Chip).

Run, run, Shady.

Run, run, Shady.

Run, run, Shady.

Run, run, Shady.

And haulin' through the snow at a frightening speed

His Eagles beat Detroit, took the Eastern lead.

He's got so many plays 'cause he's quite obsessed.

And you'd never know that Philly fans were once depressed.

It's our Little Saint Chip

(Little Saint Chip).

It's our Little Saint Chip

(Little Saint Chip).

Run, run, Shady.

Run, run, Shady.

Run, run, Shady.

Run, run, Shady.

Farewell, Farewell

O Manuel

("O Come O Come Emmanuel")

Farewell, farewell, O Manuel.

Too bad your 'pen was flammable.

We mourn in lonely exile here

Preparing for a dreadful year.

You certainly brought us lots of peaks

Before these Phils became antiques.

From depths of hell you cannot save

A season destined for the grave.

Farewell, farewell, O Manuel.

At least we've got Juan Samuel.

Hope those Dallas Cowboys Stink

("Hark, the Herald Angels Sing")

Hope those Dallas Cowboys stink,

Otherwise I'll need a shrink.

Pray that Romo ain't so fruitful.

If he's good, I'll need a snootful.

Joyful will be Sunday's game,

If Sean Lee can just stay lame.

Oh to laugh at Jerry Jones.

Love to hear some Texas moans.

Hope those Dallas Cowboys stink,

Otherwise I'll need a shrink.

Silver Hairs

("Silver Bells")

Silver hairs. Silver hairs.

It's baseball time in our city.

Old-man swings don't win rings.

These Phils just haven't a prayer.

Phillies lineup didn't sign up

Any talented youths.

In the air there's a feeling of fifth place.

All these geezers give me seizures.

Can't they find a young bat?

And on every street corner you hear:

Silver hairs. Silver hairs.

It's baseball time in our city.

Old-man swings don't win rings.

These Phils just haven't a prayer.

Utley's time-worn. Howard was born many ages ago.

In the dugout there are elders galore.

Chooch is aging. Time is paging

Cliff and J-Roll as well.

And on every street corner you hear:

Silver hairs. Silver hairs.

It's baseball time in our city.

Old-man swings don't win rings.

These Phils just haven't a prayer.

Flyers Fight

("Silent Night")

Flyers fight. Silly sight.

Oh, so dumb. Not too bright.

Pound yon Downie, Simmons, and Zac.

Nothing changes with Orange and Black.

Cupless for 38 years.

Cupless for 38 years.

Flyers fight. Silly sight.

Says a lot 'bout their plight.

Hired a coach who gooned it up.

Guaranteed they'll hoist no Cup.

It's Two-Thousand-Thirteen.

It's Two-Thousand-Thirteen.

God Rest Ye, Merion the Beast

("God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen")

God rest ye, Merion the Beast

You held the pros at bay.

Remember all those ugly scores

In U.S. Open play?

Your roughs and greens and in-betweens

Sent all those shots astray.

Few birdies, no comfort or joy.

Comfort or joy.

Few birdies, no comfort or joy.

From Sergio and Snedecker

Came balls hit out of bounds.

And Tiger couldn't read the greens.

And Stricker came unwound.

Just seven-thousand yards it played

Yet bogeys did abound.

Few birdies, no comfort or joy.

Comfort or joy.

Few birdies, no comfort or joy.

O Vladimir, O Vladimir

("O Christmas Tree O Christmas Tree")

O Vladimir, O Vladimir,

your views are so archaic.

O Vladimir, O Vladimir,

your bigotry prosaic.

The Sochi Games are drawing near.

So get that Duma in high gear.

O Vladimir, O Vladimir,

make that bad law disappear.

The message Russia must convey

Is that she welcomes straight and gay.

O Vladimir, O Vladimir

Please make it all just go away.

The skating crowd, the skiing fans

Don't want to see those foolish bans.

O Vladimir, O Vladimir

Your views are so archaic.