| Song Lyrics This page has the words to songs from M*A*S*H |
| M*A*S*H Theme (Suicide is Painless) Through early morning fog I see visions of the things to be the pains that are withheld for me I realize and I can see... [Refrain]: That suicide is painless It brings on many changes and I can take or leave it if I please. I try to find a way to make all our little joys relate without that ever-present hate but now I know that it's too late, and... [Refrain] The game of life is hard to play I'm gonna lose it anyway The losing card I'll someday lay so this is all I have to say. [Refrain] The only way to win is cheat And lay it down before I'm beat and to another give my seat for that's the only painless feat. [Refrain] The sword of time will pierce our skins It doesn't hurt when it begins But as it works its way on in The pain grows stronger, watch it grin, but... [Refrain] A brave man once requested me to answer questions that are key "is it to be or not to be" and I replied "oh why ask me?" 'Cause suicide is painless it brings on many changes and I can take or leave it if I please. ...and you can do the same thing if you choose. |
| Hail to the Chief (from the movie) Hail to the Chief He's the best of all the surgeons He needs a queen To satisfy his urges. Hail to the Chief He's the best of all the trappers He needs a queen To sit upon his lapper. Hail to the Chief He's the best of all the cutters He needs a queen To satisfy the others. Hail to the Chief Our Colonel did elect him He took his orders And shoved them up his rectum. Radar: Long live the Chief The Colonel did elect him He took all his orders And shoved them up his nose. |
| Mississippi Mud When the sun goes down, the tide goes out, The people gather 'round and they all begin to shout, "Hey! Hey! Uncle Dud, It's a treat to beat your feet on the Mississippi Mud." What a dance do they do! Lordy, how I'm tellin' you, They don't need no band, They keep time by clappin' their hand. Just as happy as a cow, chewin' on a cud, When the people beat their feet on the Mississippi Mud. |
| Captain Spalding's Song Oh Tokyo, They got some saki, and sashimi, and some clean sheets, Oh, kimono, oh, kimono, Tokyo's the town that I love the best, East may be East, and West may be West, Forget about between, it'll drive you insane, And teach you things you never knew before. |
| Spalding's Nurse Song [Refrain]: And I wonder if they miss us, Now wouldn't that be funny? Now that we're without them We can hardly stand ourselves. Well it's funny when they're here How we take for granted The way they taste, the way they feel, Their sight, their smell, their sound. And it's funny when they're gone Just how bad we miss them And how life can be so empty When they're not around. [Refrain] |
| The Caissons Go Rolling Along Over hill, over dale As we hit the dusty trail, And the Caissons go rolling along. In and out, hear them shout, Counter march and right about, And the Caissons go rolling along. Then it's hi! hi! hee! In the field artillery, Shout out your numbers loud and strong, For where e'er you go, You will always know That the Caissons go rolling along. Over hill, over dale As we hit the dusty trail, And the Caissons go rolling along. In and out, hear them shout, Counter march and right about, And the Caissons go rolling along. Then it's hi! hi! hee! In the field artillery, Shout out your numbers loud and strong, For where e'er you go, You will always know That the Caissons go rolling along. That the Caissons go rolling along. That the Caissons go rolling along. |
| Long, Long Trail There's a long, long night of waiting Until my dreams all come true, Til the day when I'll be going down that long, long trail with you. There's a long, long trail a-winding Into the land of my dreams, Where the nightingales are singing and a white moon beams. There's a long, long night of waiting Until my dreams all come true, Til the day when I'll be coming down that long, long trail with you. |
| Army Song (from Movie Tonight) Father Mulcahy: A chaplain in the Army has a collar on his neck, if you don't listen to him you'll all wind up in heck. [Chorus]: Oh I don't want no more of Army life, Gee Ma, I wanna go home! Hawkeye & B.J.: Oh the surgeons in the Army they say we're mighty bright, we work on soldiers through the day and nurses through the night. [Chorus] Colonel Potter: Friendships in the Army they say are mighty rare, so I spend all my free time carousing with my mare. [Chorus] the Nurses: The surgeons in the Army, they're bright, they are profound, but we'll take chopper pilots they'll get you off the ground. [Chorus] Radar O'Reilly: The corporals in the Army you say we're really green, but if it weren't for us guys you'd be in the latrine. [Chorus] Corporal Klinger: Oh some guys like the Army I think that it's a mess, if it's so damn terrific how come I wear a dress? [Chorus] Margaret Houlihan: Oh some nurses in the Army they haven't tied the knot, but this one's gonna try it with Donald Penobscott. Ending chorus: Oh I don't want no more of Army life, Gee Ma, I wanna go, But they won't let me go, Gee Ma, I wanna go home! Frank Burns: Oh Hawkeye and oh B.J., they think they're pretty smart, I'd like to take a scalpel and stab them in the heart. |
| Mulcahy's War Song 1 Oh my dear, I can't wait to see ya, But I'm here in South Korea. The picture you sent was quite an eyeful, I taped it to my trusty rifle. |
| Mulcahy's War Song 2 There's no one singing war songs now like people used to do, No "Over There," no "Praise the Lord," no "Glory Hallelu." Perhaps at last we've asked ourselves what we should have asked before, With the pain and death this madness brings, what were we ever singing for? |
| Molly Malone In Dublin's fair city where the girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone, She wheeled a wheel barrel through streets broad and narrow, Crying "cockles and mussels, alive alive oh." [Chorus]: Alive alive oh, alive alive oh, Crying "cockles and mussels, alive alive oh." She was a fishmonger and that was no wonder, For so were her father and mother before, They each wheeled their barrels through streets broad and narrow, Crying "cockles and mussels, alive alive oh." [Chorus] |
| A Colonel Potter Song "I love to go swimmin' with bowlegged women and swim between their legs" |
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| You Oughta Be In Pictures You oughta be in pictures, (Klinger added "wa, wa" after this) You’re wonderful to see, You oughta be in pictures, Oh what a hit you would be! Your voice would thrill a nation, Your face would be adored, You’d make a great sensation with wealth and fame your reward; And if you should kiss the way you kiss, When we’re alone, You’d make ev’ry girl and man A fan worshiping at your throne. You oughta shine as brightly As Jupiter and Mars; You oughta be in pictures, My star of stars. |
| My Blue Heaven When whippoorwills call and evening is nigh, I hurry to my Blue Heaven. Ya turn to the right, you find a little bright light, That lead's you to my Blue Heaven. You find a coffee place, a fireplace, a cozy room, A little nest that nestles where the roses bloom Just Molly and me, and baby makes three, We're happy in my Blue Heaven. When whippoorwills call and evening is nigh, I hurry to my Blue Heaven. Ya turn to the right, you find a little bright light, That lead's you to my Blue Heaven. You find a coffee place, a fireplace, a cozy room, A little nest that nestles where the roses bloom Just Molly and me, and baby makes three, We're happy in my Blue Heaven. |
| Der Fuhrer's Face When der Fuehrer says, "We ist der master race" We HEIL! (phhht!) HEIL! (phhht!) Right in der Fuehrer's face Not to love Der Fuehrer is a great disgrace So we HEIL! (phhht!) HEIL! (phhht!) Right in der Fuehrer's face When Herr Göbbels says, "We own der world und space" We HEIL! (phhht!) HEIL! (phhht!) Right in Herr Göring's face When Herr Göring says they'll never bomb this place We HEIL! (phhht!) HEIL! (phhht!) Right in Herr Göring's face Are we not the supermen Aryan pure supermen Ja we ist der supermen Super-duper supermen. Ist this Nutzi land not good? Would you leave it if you could? Ja this Nutzi land is good! Vee would leave it if we could We bring the world to order Heil Hitler's new world order Everyone of foreign race will love der Fuehrer's face When we bring to der world disorder When der Fuehrer says, "We ist der master race" We HEIL! (phhht!) HEIL! (phhht!) Right in der Fuehrer's face When Der Fuehrer says, "We ist der master race" We HEIL! (phhht!) HEIL! (phhht!) Right in der Fuhrer's face |
| Keep the Home Fires Burning They were called in from the hillside, they were summoned from the glen, And the country found them ready, at the stirring call for: "Men". Let no tears add to their hardships, as the soldiers pass along, And although your hearts are breaking, you must sing this cheery song: Keep the home fires burning while your hearts are yearning, Though the lads are far away they dream of home, There's a silver lining through the dark clouds shining, Turn the dark clouds inside out 'til the boys come home. Overseas there came a pleading, help a nation in distress, And we gave our valiant laddies, honour bade us do no less For no gallant son of Britain to a foreign yoke shall bend, And no Englishman is silent to the sacred call of: "Friend". |
| You're the Top At words poetic, I'm so pathetic That I always have found it best, Instead of getting 'em off my chest, To let 'em rest unexpressed. I hate parading my serenading As I'll probably miss a bar, But if this ditty is not so pretty, At least it'll tell you how great you are. You're the top! You're the Colosseum, You're the top! You're the Louvre Museum, You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss, You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeare sonnet, You're Mickey Mouse. You're the Nile, You're the Tow'r of Pisa, You're the smile on the Mona Lisa. I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop, But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top! Your words poetic are not pathetic On the other hand, boy, you shine And I can feel after every line A thrill divine down my spine. Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans Might think that your song is bad, But for a person who's just rehearsin' Well I gotta say this my lad: You're the top! You're Mahatma Ghandi. You're the top! You're Napolean brandy. You're the purple light of a summer night in Spain, You're the National Gall'ry, You're Garbo's sal'ry, You're cellophane. You're sublime, You're a turkey dinner. You're the time of the Derby winner. I'm a toy balloon that is fated soon to pop. But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top! You're the top! You're a Ritz hot toddy. You're the top! You're a Brewster body. You're the boats that glide on the sleepy Zuider Zee, You're a Nathan Panning, You're Bishop Manning, You're broccoli. You're a prize, You're a night at Coney, You're the eyes of Irene Bordoni, I'm a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a blop, But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top. You're the top! You're an Arrow collar. You're the top! You're a Coolidge dollar. You're the nimble tread of the feet of Fred Astaire, You're an O'Neill drama, You're Whistler's mama, You're Camembert. You're a rose, You're Inferno's Dante, You're the nose of the great Durante. I'm just in the way, as the French would say "De trop," But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top. You're the top! You're a Waldorf salad. You're the top! You're a Berlin ballad. You're a baby grand of a lady and a gent. You're an old dutch master, You're Mrs. Aster, You're Pepsodent. You're romance, You're the steppes of Russia, You're the pants on a Roxy usher. I'm a lazy lout that's just about to stop, But if Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top! You're the top! You're a dance in Bali. You're the top! You're a hot tamale. You're an angel, you simply too, too, too diveen, You're a Botticelli, You're Keats, You're Shelley, You're Ovaltine. You're a boon, You're the dam at Boulder, You're the moon over Mae West's shoulder. I'm a nominee of the G.O.P. or GOP, But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top! You're the top! You're the Tower of Babel. You're the top! You're the Whitney Stable. By the River Rhine, You're a sturdy stein of beer, You're a dress from Saks's, You're next year's taxes, You're stratosphere. You're my thoist, You're a Drumstick Lipstick, You're da foist in da Irish svipstick, I'm a frightened frog that can find no log to hop, But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top! |
| I'll be Home for Christmas I'll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me. Please have snow and mistletoe and presents on the tree. Christmas Eve will find me, where the love light gleams. I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams. |
| Making Whoopie 1st version Another bride, another groom The countryside is all in bloom; The flow'rs 'n trees is, The birds and bees is Making whoopie. The choir sings, "Here comes the bride" Another victim is at her side He's lost his reason 'Cause it's the season For making whoopee. Down through the countless ages, You'll find it ev'rywhere: Somebody makes good wages, Somebody wants her share. It's so he'll fall for Making whoopee. Another year, or maybe less What's this I hear? Or can't you guess? She feels neglected, And he's suspected Of making whoopee. She sits alone 'most ev'ry night He doesn't come home, or even write He says he's busy But she says, "Is he Making whoopee?" He doesn't make much money Five thousand dollars per; Some judge who thinks he's funny Says, "You pay six to her." He says, "Now judge, suppose I fail?" The judge says, "Bud, right into jail. You'd better keep her You'll find it cheaper Than making whoopee." 2nd version Another bride Another groom Another sunny Honeymoon; Another season, Another reason For makin' whoopee. A quiet service, A lot of rice, The groom is nervous He answers twice. It's really killing That he's so willing To make whoopee. Picture a little lovenest Down where the roses cling Picture that same sweet lovenest Think what a year can bring. He's washing dishes And baby clothes He's so ambitious He even sews; But don't forget, boys That's what you get, boys For makin' whoopee. |
| Long, Long Trail There's a long, long night of waiting Until my dreams all come true, Til the day when I'll be going down that long, long trail with you. There's a long, long trail a-winding Into the land of my dreams, Where the nightingales are singing and a white moon beams. There's a long, long night of waiting Until my dreams all come true, Til the day when I'll be coming down that long, long trail with you. |
| Some Enchanted Evening Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger you may see a stranger across a crowded room, an' somehow you know, you know even then, that somewhere you'll see her again and again! Some enchanted evening, someone may be laughing you may hear her laughing across a crowded room, an' night after night as strange as it seems the sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams! Who can explain it, who can tell you why, fools give you reasons, wise men never try! Some enchanted evening, when you find your true love when you hear her call you across a crowded room, then fly to her side and make her your own or all thru your life you may dream all alone! Once you have found her, never let her go! Once you have found her, never let her go! |