A Modest Candidate

Seeing a TV commercial this evening touting record-your-own-message Mother's Day cards inspired this not-so-off-the-cuff parody of Harry Ruby's Father's Day:

Today, Mother, is Mother's Day—
So we're giving you a card.
There's no need to sob;
We just want to corrob-
Orate: our psyches are not very scarred.

You amplified our Oedipus Complexes
With your psychobabble, mind games and lies;
So if we've become polygamists in Texas—
It should come as no surprise.

Lyric © 2008 Nathaniel DesH. Petrikov

Feel free to record this for your mothers, folks! Only too happy to spread a bit of cheer.

Addendum: I may vomit. A bit of googling reveals that these new Hallmark cards allow ten seconds of vocals, followed by a whopping fifteen seconds of pre-recorded CRAP. Now, why in hell wouldn't they permit twenty-five seconds of recording space? (Well, we all know perfectly well why. To keep Phil Collins off the breadline, of course.)

Addendum: I've tweaked the lyric a bit. Too much of the original is a Bad Thing, and besides, I was having trouble not singing Ruby's original words after showing you.

Addendum: Tweaked it again. Only after about twenty run-throughs did it dawn on me that no one says Oedipal Complexes. The trouble is, the lone word Oedipal fixed itself to those notes early on, and clung to 'em like a lyrical barnacle. By the time the line was complete, it seemed as if I'd never heard of anything but Oedipal Complexes.