Lyrics: The White Boy Troubles

ENSEMBLE: (singing)
De white boy troubles!
(White boy troubles!)
De white boy troubles!
(Boy got troubles!)
Oh what a boidennn!
(Oh, heavy boidennn!)
His car's fucked up!
De boy got a provlem!
She ripped up de 'polstry
(Wit de red dress on)
Outa dat O-zo-mobile!
(Tell me what I say)
Hafta go ta Tia-Juana now!
(I don't have it)
He should go to BROWN MOSES,
Way down in Egyppp-Lainnn!
(Egyppp-Lainnn)

THING-FISH: (checking off a clipboard, like a social worker)
Looks likes y'done putty good heahh, HARRY-AS-A-BOY! I sees ya' growin'
up like a weed, axmodently reproducin' YOSEFF 'n evvythang. Done found
some low-rent housin' in a one-dimensional cardbode nativity box on some
Italian's funt lawn...bunch o' crab-grass underneath de offspring fo quick 'n
easy sanitatium...shit! Y'all provvly be savin' up fo yo first LAVA LAMP putty
soon!

HARRY-AS-A-BOY:
We're incredibly happy! Even though I'm gay for business purposes, my
relationship with artificial RHONDA has blossomed into something really
beautiful, although I must confess to being baffled by how she got knocked
up.

THING-FISH:
Well, if de trufe be told, it were de father o' de boy at de gas statium...when
y'sent de ol' lady in fo' de inner-tube patchin', 'round de foth o' July.

HARRY-AS-A-BOY:
QUENTIN? How could he be so unfaithful? I'm sure God has ways of
punishing naughty little guys like that!

THING-FISH:
Mights well stop complainin', boy! De damage been done! Leastways y'all
can pretend to be SOME KINDA DADDY! Yo' rubber bitch ain't gwine change
no diapers! Y'said y'all was incredibly happy! Enjoy it while y'got it, boy!
De shit gwine hit de fan in a minute!

HARRY-AS-A-BOY:
What? Something BAD is going to happen?

THING-FISH:
You figgit out...judgin' fum de intellectional expressium on yo' beloved's
ignint face, de bitch gwine be contemplatin' A CAREER OF HER OWN! See
dat?

Look like she got her one good eye on a briefcase 'n a tweed spo't coat
down de mall somewheres!

Durin' de intromissium, few de SISTERS seen her 'tendin' a
CONSCIOUSNESS RAISIN' MEETIN' over at de Hiltum! Thass right!
Bitch passed up de MASH POTATOES 'n took off wit' de High School
Cafeteria Butch.

FRANCESCO opens the door, and stands on the porch, still watching
through the binoculars.

THING-FISH: (contd.)
Makin' matters woise, de Italian dat be ownin' yo' nativity bungalow
been wondrin' 'bouts de hanky AN' de panky 'tween you 'n dem two
concrete flamingos ovuh by de steps! You been messin' wit de State
Bird o' New Jersey, muthafucker! Dat kin git you five to life in dis
vicinity! If you wants a little frennly advice, boy, I'd be growin' my
ass up a little quicker, 'n whizz on outa heahh!

Leave de ugly baby in de crab-grass, snatch up yo' wretched excuse
fo a woman, 'n climb on up de heap! Get yo'seff a job drivin' a truck fulla
string-beans to Utah! Make sumfin' out y'seff, so's y'can afode a ticket to
de MAMMY NUN SHOW! Den we can piss all ovuh de adulterated wimp you
gwine become, an' get de shit rollin' agin'!