To the tune of: "O Christmas Tree"
O Cake of Fruit, O Cake of Fruit,
Each year you keep returning.
O Cake of Fruit, O Cake of Fruit,
Your presence I am spurning.
Thou cloying clot, so damp and dense,
How you offend my ev'ry sense.
O Cake of Fruit, O Cake of Fruit,
You start my stomach churning.

O Cake of Fruit, O Cake of Fruit,
As heavy as an anchor.
O Cake of Fruit, O Cake of Fruit,
Appealing as a chancre.
My cousin sent one from Duluth;
I tried a slice and broke a tooth.
That wasn't cute, O Cake of Fruit;
You bring me naught but rancor.

This Cake of Fruit, this Cake of Fruit,
O how I hate and fear it.
I'd like to shoot this Cake of Fruit,
It suffocates my spirit.
I can't abide one sorry chunk
Of this pernicious, awful junk.
Such ill repute, this Cake of Fruit;
My schnauzer won't go near it.

Drew Jansen, Golden Valley, MN

To the tune of: "O Christmas Tree"
Oh tin of balm, oh tin of balm
How are thy aromas so fragrant!
Oh tin of balm, oh tin of balm
How are they aromas so fragrant!

Not only in the gymnasium
but even in this sauna mine.
Oh tin of balm, oh tin of balm
How are they aromas so fragrant!

Oh tin of balm, oh tin of balm,
My muscles do adore thee!
Oh tin of balm, oh tin of balm,
My muscles do adore thee!

For every time the tin of balm,
Brings us both flex ad shine.
Oh tin of balm, oh tin of balm,
My muscles do adores thee!

Oh tin of balm, oh tin of balm,
Thy aromas announce my coming!
Oh tin of balm, of tin of balm,
Thy aromas announce my coming!

Each tin of balm doth hold its stink,
that makes each cell to share alike.
Oh tin of balm, oh tin of balm,
They aromas announcing my coming!

Ruth Hamberg, Minneapolis, MN

To the tune of: "O Christmas Tree"
Oh Jesse V! Oh Jesse V! To talk-show host you're going.
Oh Jesse V! Oh Jesse V! Our budgets you were growing.
From humble roots
We carried thee
And now you're on
our home TV!

Oh Jesse V! Oh Jesse V! Done jabbing Roger Moe-ing!

Oh Jesse V! Oh Jesse V! "Do I Stand Alone" you penned
Oh Jesse V! Oh Jesse V! The truth you sure did bend
Through fishing op'ners
Hunting deer
Cuban cigars
and wrestling years
$1 billion budget defecit Our State will try to mend.

Paul Pash, Bloomington, MN

To the tune of: "O Christmas Tree"
Ventura's term is nearly done
Merry Christmas everyone!
Our bragging wrestler's gravely voice
Is heard no more so let's rejoice.
More peace and quiet in our state
Than we have had since '98.
His shaven scalp is, oh, so pink
But fiscally, we bleed red ink.

Derision greeted his campaign:
A wrestler? Governor? That's insane!
The DFL and GOP
Both said, "No way, that we can see."
And yet he won, a big surprise
In everybody else's eyes.
To then become what's with us still:
New grist for Keillor's humor mill.

He said that he did not prefer
The mansion of the Governor.
But then he chose to spoil our fun
When he decided not to run.
Yet we may hear him coast-to-coast
If he becomes a talk-show host.
But MPR need have no fear
A GOP man comes next year!

Samuel John Lukeman, Sioux Falls, SD

To the tune of: "O Christmas Tree"
O. Henry wrote a Christmas tale
It was 'bout Jim and Della
Oh, Della was a lovely gal,
And Jim a handsome fella
Jim's pocket-watch, an heirloom fine
He'd use it oft to tell the time.
And to Della's hair there was no compare,
As they say in Venice, "Bella!"

Oh Della truly loved her Jim
Despite their meager earnings
Twenty bucks a week is a budget slim
At least that's what she's learning
One dollar eighty-seven cents
Was all she'd saved for his presents
But still she wished a gift for him
Quite fine and rare and sterling

She did conceive on Christmas eve
A way to raise some money
To buy a gift for darling Jim
To make his days more sunny
Selling her hair in a parlor, she
Could raise a whole weeks salary
She bought a new watch fob and chain
And wrapped them for her honey.

She started up the coffee pot
For when her Jim came home
When he saw her hair, he could only stare
His face was carved in stone
He said, "I'm sorry, Dell, my dear
But look, I have your gift right here"
In a classic, botch, he'd sold his watch
For her exquisite combs.

Now, you may hear O. Henry's tale
And think it awfuly "trag-eye"
Or, you may think these foolish folks
Are not exactly "sage-eye"
You look at them and roll your eyes
For they are certainly not wise
Still, I believe all who receive
and give like this are Magi

Thomas Zielund, Shakopee, MN

Happy Merry Lyric Contest Home

Read submissions
Set 1 | Set 2 | Set 3 | Set 4 | Set 5 | Set 6
Set 7 | Set 8 | Set 9 | Set 10 | Set 11 | Set 12
Set 13 | Set 14 | Set 15