ICE QUEEN SINGS!
Friday, August 27, 2004
It's The Ice Queen's Tunes Page
Yes, I take songs and change their words. And now, here are Ice Queen's Greatest Hits all on one page for your browsing pleasure!
(I’m the) Ice Queen
I'm just a regular girl with a regular job
I'm your average white urbanite snob
I like napping and cooking and hosting galore
Got a house in East York with a nice hardwood floor
My spouse and my kid, my lawn and my cats
My pedicured feet and Australian Shiraz
But sometimes that just ain't enough to keep a girl like me interested
I've got to go out and have fun at outrageous expense
I buy Grande Lattes with chocolate on top
And imported stockings at 15 bucks a pop
I'm the Ice Queen
I'm the Ice Queen
I wear power suits and I wear power heels
I shop Value Village and get some great deals
I'm the Ice Queen
I'm the Ice Queen
Sometimes I'm mean to clingy shop clerks
I don't suffer fools and I don't humour jerks
I'm the Ice Queen
I'm the Ice Queen
I-C-E Q-U-E-E-N
Say it with me
I-C-E Q-U-E-E-N
I-C-E Q-U-E-E-N
Dream Job
to the tune of Dreamweaver
I've just checked my voice mail again
Waiting for the dream job gravy train
Mike, take away my worries of today
And leave tomorrow behind
(chorus)
Ooh dream job
I believe I could use the extra pay
Ooh dream job
I believe you’re not so far away
Throw me a party with presents to say goodbye
As for the job itself…
Cross that path when it arrives
Gonna be a success once I get off this shelf
(chorus again)
Though the call may be coming soon
I may have to wait ‘til next time
Bide my time writing a bright little tune
And I’ll just keep applying
Hot Blooded
Well, I'm hot blooded, check it and see
I got a fever of a hundred and three
Come on baby, pass me the Gatorade
I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded
You don't have to read my mind, to know why I’m in bed
Honey you oughta know
Now you move the pillow, let me lay down my head
I wanna nap then we can watch some shows
Now it's up to you, we can watch American Choppers too
Coronation Street, I'll tell you all the plots and who’s killed who
That's why, I'm hot blooded, check it and see
I got a fever of a hundred and three
Come on baby, pass the blankie to me
I'm hot blooded, hot blooded
If I feel alright, maybe I won’t cough all night
Will you catch it from me?
But I can’t get up off the couch, come on head, try to be kind.
Honey, I’m a hot mama….can you make the boy some spaghetti?
Yeah I'm hot blooded, check it and see
Feel the fever burning inside of me
Come on baby, can you pass the remote?
I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded
Private Banker
You wanna make a million dollars
You want a Hummer and some DVDs
Who needs a husband and some children
Heck, I’ll throw in mine for free
All the men come to these places
And their suits are all the same
Wearing Monday faces
They just want to play the game,
I’m your private banker
I’ll make you some money
Cause that’s what you want me to do
I’m your private banker
So give me your money
Any old greenbacks will do
Not Bre-X or Nortel
(Insert my bank here) will do nicely thank you
Let me loosen up your wallet
Tell me, do want me to examine your portfolio again?
Ohhhhhh…….
Layton
(sung to the tune of Layla by Eric Clapton. Fast or slow version, your choice. If you don't know this song, go sit in the corner for the rest of lunch hour and think about what you've done wrong.)
Well you know you won’t get lonely
With wifey running by your side
You’ve been running and winning much too long.
You know it’s just your foolish pride.
Layton, you’re running in my riding
Layton, and yet I’m still deciding
Layton, honey won’t you shave off your moustache
I tried to give you consideration
’cause I think Mills is such a clown.
Don’t know what to do, can’t fall in love with you,
Although I like Olivia Chow
Layton, the lesser of the evils
Layton, you’re cute but no Mikevil
Layton, darling won’t you ease my indecision
You’ve teeth like little chiclits
Wear pastels just like a pro
You’d do just great in Opposition
Still hurtin’ from my vote for Bob Rae, d’oh!.
New Tunes on Tuesday
Shake up the weekday the weary bleak day
You got me coming up with posts
Even when I don’t have time
Crabby says again
Could I please spellcheck it
My typos I just can’t hide
I thought it was really quite funny
But I’ll wait for you to decide
Send your pithy comments
I’ll reply with something snide
I Am The Ice Queen
CHORUS
I boot my ‘pewt and type, ‘cause it’s the
New Tunes on Tuesday
And you’ll hum than day and night
I make these songs up just to make you feel alright
And the song that started it all:
The Dim Sum Song
Hot town, summer in the city
Back on Spadina getting dirty and gritty
Flute guy, isn't it a pity
Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city
All around, ducks looking half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, slimy like a fish head
But at noon the girls will come
Go out and eat dim sum
"Come on bring that cart o'er here
Chicken feet? Keep going, dear."
And babe, don't you know it's a pity
The shoes only come in size 5
In the summer, on Spadina
In the summer, on Spadina
Cool town, girls in the city
Dressing so fine and looking so pretty
Pokemon and Hello Kitty
Seems they're in every corner of the city
Till I'm wheezing like a bus stop
Running up the stairs, gonna eat and then shop
And babe, don't you know it's a pity
The shoes only come in size 5
In the summer, on Spadina
In the summer, on Spadina
Lady in Pleather
I've never seen you looking as shiny as you do today
I've never seen you dressed this way
I've never seen so many men ask you why you’re wearing pants
I know they kill the romance, but give ‘em half a chance
I have never seen those pants you're wearing
How the highlights from the vinyl catch your eyes, I have been blind
The lady in pleather is working with me, just down the street
There’re not even black, you’re wearing brown (looks good with the crown)
But I hardly know the Ice Queen by my side
I'll never forget, the way you look tonight
Smells Like David Miller
A piece on the ol' blamblog has inspired a new tune. Brett ponders: If Miller looks like a mayor and thinks like a mayor, does he smell like a mayor? The Icicle Fief went straight to the Ouija Board to ask the world's foremost expert, Kurt Cobain:
Load up on Pez and
Bring your friends
No fun to lose
I won’t pretend
I don’t just run
To pay the rent
Got to go meet
Some constituents
Hello, hello, hello, hello
Hello, hello, hello, hello
Must admit I’ve got great hair
Here I am now
I’m your mayor
Though Babs thinks it unfair
Here I am now
I’m your mayor
They’ve been hintin’
I’m like Clinton
Eating Cheetos
In my speedo
Yeah
Babs got worse, failed the test
And for this gift I feel blessed
She’s pretty cute though, she’s no hag
She vaguely looks like me in drag
Hello, hello, hello, hello
Hello, hello, hello, hello
Only ran on a dare
Here I am now
I am your mayor
Look sincere, like I care
Here I am now
I’m your mayor
Don’t like jets
Don’t incinerate
Reduce murder
Have some burgers
Yeah!
And why am I
So squeaky clean?
Use Irish Spring
And some Brylcreem
It was hard to find
Oh well, whatever, nevermind
Hello, hello, hello, hello
Hello, hello, hello, hello
Not like Thatcher, more like Blair
Here I am now
I’m your mayor
Did I mention, my great hair?
Here I am now
I’m your mayor
Tom is E.T.
John is needy
Babs is biding
Tory’s bribing
Yeah, a denial
A denial
A denial...
Go on out and vote for the candidate of your choice. And don't forget to take your Pez.
(This post was in no way paid for by the Campaign to elect David Miller. Unfortunately. But if the campaign would like to send along some money retroactivately, that'd be grand. Thanks.)
Good Mother
I've got crackers in my pocket
I ‘ve got rice in my hair
I've got a kid who loves me
Got a trike, I've got some cats
I am a good mother
And his voice is what wakes me up
(chorus)
Milk on ground
‘Ghetti in hand
Facing backwards
On the bus
I've, I've never wanted sleep
No I've, no I've, I've never wanted sleep
So bad... so bad
Trail of Cheerios wherever we've been
Thrown out with all the crayoned, ripped up,
Peed on, God Damned upholsteries
You could say he’s hard to hold
But if you knew him you'd know
I've got a strong son
And his strength is what makes me spry
(chorus)
I've got cookies in my pocket
I’ve got cheezies in my hair
I've got a kid who loves me
Got a kiss, I've got a hug
I’m a good mother
And my voice is what keeps him here
“Feet on ground
Boots on feet
Facing forward
Behave yourself
Just sit down
Tongue off seat
Facing forward
Behave yourself
Just behave yourself
Just behave yourself”
Juice on ground, snack in hand
Snack on ground, snack in hand
Lola’s Song
to the tune of I’ve been Working on the Railroad
I’ve been working for the Beemo
All the live long day
I’ve been working for the Beemo
Just to get incentive pay
Can't you leave a little early
Overtime sure stinks
Can’t you hear the bankers shouting
”Lola, go for drinks!
Lola won’t you go
Lola won’t you go
Lola, won’t you go for drinks with us
Lola, won’t you go
Lola, won’t you go
Lola, won’t you go for drinks?”
Someone’s in the storeroom with Lola
Someone’s in the storeroom I said
Someone’s in the storeroom with Lola
Looking at her 4 page spread
Fee fie fiddley I said
Fee fie fiddley I said
Fee fie fiddley I said
Looking at her 4 page spread
House of Splenda
(to the tune of House of the Rising Sun, natch!)
There is a house in the Beaches.
Where the Shiraz flows like rum
And it's been the ruin of many a Queen
And God I know I'm one.
Well Crabby’s been on Atkins
She’ll need some new bluejeans
And Mr. Crab has lost some flab
He’s now a lean machine
Now the only thing a Queen doth need
Is stockings and a crown
And if my stockings get a run
Then all I’ll do is frown
Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
My skirt’s too tight, it’s time for flight
To the House of the Splenda, son.
With one foot on the bedpost
And the other foot on the floor
Can’t squeeze my ass (thanks to that Wolf Blass)
Into my dress no more
There is a house in the Beaches
Where the Shiraz flows like rum
And it's been the ruin of many a Queen
And thank God I am one.
The Non-Essential Song (written during the Great Blackout of 2003 when non-essential employees were asked to stay home until full power was achieved)
Just last week, before life became acoustical,
It was beautiful, it was electrical, mechanical.
And all neon lights, well they’d be twinkling happily,
SHOP AT GAP, GET ONE FREE
But then shut us all down, taught us how to be Mennonite,
Got mosquito bites outside at night by candlelight
And they showed me a world where I could be so amish,
My food’s spoiled, now I’m famished.
there are times when I put some washing in,
is it really such a sin
when I’m starting to smell bad?
won’t you please, please not tell Ernie Eves
it’s one of his pet peeves
(his hair oil could power Chad)
Now watch what you say or they’ll be calling you peripheral,
Feral, non-essential, ephemeral.
No need to come in, we just feel you’re
Useless, no finesse, over-stressed, too well-dressed.
Even now, it seems so strange and weird,
even Mansbridge grew a beard
Guess I’ll just stay home and clean…
I don’t want to have to wash the floor
But I’ll catch up on my chores
‘til my desk job reconvenes
Potato Chip The Beautiful!
O beautiful for sour cream,
for ketchup and for plain,
For fully dressed, those are the best
Or something in that vein
Potato chip! Potato chip!
God shed His grace on thee,
And make thy hue a barbeque
Not pee or ghee or brie!
O beautiful for crispiness
I love to crunch and nip
Although your calories persist
Across my spreading hips.
Potato chip! Potato chip!
God mend thine ev'ry flaw,
Confirm my soul in self-control,
To keep you from my jaw.
O beautiful those Taro ones
And orange ones made from yams
The purple ones: their prices stun
But I don’t give a damn
Potato chip! Potato chip!
May God thy fat refine
Thy tastiness be ever bliss
And ev'ry chip be mine.
