In the mid to late 1980's (before Baud Town and the Underground Informer existed), one of the local BBSes I hung out on was The Loony Bin, whose Sysop was my friend Alan Smith (co-Sysop was our dearly departed, and much missed friend, Todd Pittman). One day, someone suggested we have a "Sangin' Contest", where we would all write up some song lyrics and an impartial judge (who turned out to be very partial) would choose the best song. This was my entry. I didn't win. Did I mention the judge wasn't quite as impartial as he was supposed to be?
I got fired from work today and I don't know why.
Hope I find another job by 'n' by.
My boss 'n' me had a big ol' fight,
Cussin' 'n' swearin' with all our might
I got so mad I broke down his door,
Threw his chair out the wind'er, and ripped up the floor.
Why me? Why me?
Why does it always happen to me?
I lost my job today.
Why did it happen to me?
When my lady found out, she up 'n' went.
Hey bitch! It ain't my fault I can't pay the rent.
It's awful lonely-like, here by myself.
I tore up the picture of her on the shelf.
Think I'll go to the honky tonk and ferget my crime.
Two or three cases should do that just fine.
Why me? Why me?
Why does it always happen to me?
My lady left me today.
Why did it happen to me?
Well, I had a good time, 'n' got drunk as a dog.
Driving back home, my mind was all fogged.
Then I noticed the ol' blue lights in the mirror,
But I was so blasted, I thought I had nothing to fear.
The officer said, "How many have you had?"
"I lost count at 43, was my driving that bad?"
Why me? Why me?
Why does it always happen to me?
I have my own cell now.
Why did it happen to me?