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ROOT!
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Thank God You're Here
Last night I dreamed the Angel of Death
Was looming near with a lugubrious leer
I could almost smell its cadaverous breath
As it whispered in my ear：Thank God you're here,
Thank God you're here.
I was pushed through a door to a packed studio
I could tell it was Hell from the atmosphere
The sulphurous smell of fires below
And the audience yelled: Thank God you're here,
Thank God you're here.
The stage was full of comedians, cavorting grimly to the crowds applause
And incredibly I seemed to be one of them, shaking hands and sharpening claws
The finest in the profession of gregarious self obsession
St. Peter's dancing for pole position at the center of attention
All these friendly guys with daggers in their eyes
All hail fellow, well meant, and I hope you die
So much bonomy, so much anomie
They all had Voodoo dolls that looked suspiciously like me
I seemed to be famous and good looking to boot
If you want to be funny, you have to be cute
Hanging on to my keyring - a supermodel plaything
Whom I'm currently dating, well until next ratings,
I saw Rove on the phone to the States
With his caravan trailing, peeling him grapes
And the Aussie chick, my charming sidekick
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With a NIDA degree so she can act thick
Another door opened, a crush began
The Panel came past carried on a Sedan
With supplicants pitching movie treatments
Like lepers at the feet of Jesus
I felt my mouth form something banal
The audience convulsed in the laughing grand mal
I was pushed to the floor, someone stood on my head
'The Chaser's chasing ratings' someone said
They held me down, yelled in my ear: 'The dark lord comes
Prepare for thy doom ADD Armageddon nears
Thou shalt not be the funniest in the room'
There was gnashing of teeth and someone weeped
And in rode Billy Connoly on a chopper sponsered by ING
Cackling and yelling: 'Let's talk about me!'
I woke, flapping, like a fish on a line
The nightmare gone; alive and alone
Lying in a pool of my own salty brine
The ringing in my head morped into my phone
My doona, still round my ear,
I picked up my phone, brushed a tear
It was Henri Root saying, 'Thank God you're here,
The Comedy Festival wants us to appear.'
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