music and lyrics copyright 2004 by Stephen J. Deasy
I've heard all the old folk songs
They all sound like crap
I'd rather drive my truck 'round town
And blast my gangsta rap
I don't mean to cause no trouble
Boys will just be boys
But not in the town of Clawson
Where there's an ordinance for noise
I come from southeast Michigan
Justin is my name
Just listen and I'll tell you 'bout my
Fifteen minutes of fame
All I did was play my music loud
When I was not alone
Got a ticket for a front row seat
In the court of Judge Martone
The judge said to impose your music
Upon others is not just right
But you seem like such a good kid
Apologetic and contrite
I won't make you pay a big fine
Don't think you should do time
But I think I know a punishment
That surely fits this crime
Go down to the local CD store
Use your own money
Buy a copy of Wayne Newton's
Greatest Hits CD
Bring it back here to my court
And 'til the second hour chimes
You must listen to Wayne Newton
Many, many times
Danke Schoen
On my brain
Feel my pain
Hear me moan
From this sentence
I've done my penance
Repentance
In the court of Judge Martone
Red Roses For A Blue Lady
My does this stuff suck!
Daddy You can only Walk So Fast
From Wayne, so take the truck!
Two hours of this is painful
More annoying than a mime
And it's safe to say I won't be back
Come apple blossom time
I won't say I've learned my lesson
But I swear I'll go insane
If some old schlemiel in an oldsmobile
Comes blasting danke shoen
I won't play my music loud no more
I'd rather wear headphones
Than to have to face the music
In that court of Judge Martone's
Danke Schoen
On my brain
Feel my pain
Hear me moan
From this sentence
I've done my penance
Repentance
In the court of Judge Martone
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