School used to be science and math English and home economics class School used to be in a physical place Now our screen is where I see teacher’s face Zoom, zoom, our whole lives are zoom Zoom, zoom, I want to leave my room School used to be science and math English and home economics class School used to be in a physical place Now our screen is where I see teacher’s face Line partners holding hands in the hall Hit in the face with a red dodge ball School used to be a place we would go Now my class froze cuz the internet’s slow Zoom, zoom, our whole lives are zoom Zoom, zoom, I want to leave my room Why must we always stare at our screens Someone please tell me what “synchronous” means Our teacher can’t figure out how to unmute. Wonder if anyone fed our class newt Zoom, zoom, our whole lives are zoom Zoom, zoom, I want to leave my room Zoom, zoom, our whole lives are zoom Zoom, zoom, I want to leave my room

Mary Sawyer was a real girl and really had a lamb And that lamb followed her to school Just like in the po-a-a-am. John Roulstone was at the school visiting that day he saw the lamb, he wrote a poem, and then went on his way Who wrote Mary had a little lamb John Roulstone or Sarah Hale We’ll never know cuz they’re dead Let’s play our guitars instead Meanwhile in New Hampshire there’s a different tale they tell They say the poem was written by Sarah Josepha Hale Sarah Hale was a poet and also a writer In 1830 Mary’s Lamb was published in a book by her Who wrote Mary had a little lamb John Roulstone or Sarah Hale We’ll never know cuz both dead Let’s play our guitars instead So, two stories. Did John Roulstone write the poem and give it to Mary Sawyer, as she or did Sarah Josepha Hale come up with the poem from her own imagination. Unfortunately, Joel Roulstone died very young so no one was able to ask him directly. And both Mary Sawyer and Sarah Josepha Hale signed sworn statements saying their version of the story is true. So, who was right: Mary Sawyer or Sara Josepha Hale? Guess we’ll never know. Who wrote Mary had a little lamb John Roulstone or Sarah Hale We’ll never know cuz both dead Let’s play our guitars instead

Before he was the presdent He was a Middlesex resident He lived on Broadway in Winter Hill Barack Obama lived in Somerville From ’88 to ’91 He went to Harvard as a law student He lived right here ‘cuz the rent was cheap He got some tickets when he parked on the street Did he go to Trum Field To shoot some hoops Did he walk to Foss Park To have a dip in the pool Before he was the presdent He was a Middlesex resident He lived on Broadway in Winter Hill Barack Obama lived in Somerville Did he brunch at sound bites Or eat lasagna at Vinny’s at Night Maybe he lunched at Leone’s A slice of pizza with pepperoni In his yellow Datsun he would cruise ‘round the ‘Ville It was old and had a hole in the floor which did not impress Michelle Before he was the presdent He was a Middlesex resident He lived on Broadway in Winter Hill Barack Obama lived in Somerville

I was strollin’ down the street one day I think it was Morrison Ave I looked up and then I saw you The largest tree I ever have (seen) You were 93 feet tall Back in 1996 15 feet 6 inches was your girth Not sure if anyone’s measured you since Oh my Sweet Silver Maple Largest tree in Somerville Do you think you could love me I’m just a humble pickle (jar) Now this here city’s got a lot of trees Some are short and some are tall But there’s one special Aser sakkarinum That surely towers 'bove them all Oh my Sweet Silver Maple Somerville’s largest tree Oh my Sweet Silver Maple Will you go to prom with me Oh my Sweet Silver Maple Largest tree in Somerville Do you think you could love me I’m just a humble pickle (jar)

In the 1870s George Emerson signed a lease You see he had a plan To make the best pickles in the land George filled his powder house with cucumbers that he doused with some salty brine He knew he’d have pickles in no time The name of his company: Old Powder House Brand made the best pickles in the land In the powder house he stored Pickles and pickles and pickles galore Inside the tall stone tower George’s pickles grew nice and sour The name of his company: Old Powder House Brand made the best pickles in the land But in 1878, something terrible happened. A fire burned poor George Emerson’s factory to the ground. The company didn’t officially go out of business until 1892, But George’s pickle factory was no more. All that remains of his pickle dream is a plaque in Nathan Tuft’s park And there Powder House Pickle Jar is where you come from Bye bye Old Powder House Pickles Bye bye Old Powder House Pickles Bye bye Old Powder House Pickles Bye bye Old Powder House Pickles

Facts are true, Facts are fun Like climate change or evolution water is wet, the Earth is round You can prove these things with Jackson Browne Ice cream is cold, the sun is a star Facts don’t care if you’re a big monstar, Structural racism is real A fact is a fact no matter how you feel Facts are true, Facts are fun Like climate change or evolution water is wet, the Earth is round You can prove these things with Jackson Browne Facts can be proven with science and math You can do research while taking a bath Ice cream cold there is no doubt Ask the thermometer or a singing trout Facts are true, Facts are fun Like climate change or evolution water is wet, the Earth is round You can prove these things with Jackson Browne

Those weird statues in Davis Square Those weird statues in Davis Square Weird Weird statues In Davis Square Weird Weird statues In Davis Square

Triple Pickle Not a single Not a double Watch ya got? Triple Pickle Triple Pickle

John Mallet bought himself a hilltop In what was then Charlestown He was a refugee from France He built ships and maybe danced He decided to make a building that was round He and his sons got to building Their structure rose 30 feet high It was built from local stone but this was not their home What they built was made to grind They built a windmill designed to grind their grain It had three floors who could ask for more Its top could turn so the wind it would face

Now listen I’m a trucker from my hat down to my boots And I’ve driven around this great land from Medford to Duluth But when I’m home in Somerville I just park my rig A pedestrian I am and I do not drive a lick Now say I want to throw an ax on a Tuesday night I don’t need to start my truck I don’t need to drive I can just walk from my home and catch the 87 and ride the city bus to my destination, cuz CHORUS: We got a pretty good walk score You don’t need a car We got a pretty good walk score/ I can walk to barre We got a pretty good walk score/ average 89 We got a pretty good walk score In your face Brookline Thursday is the day that I like to eat my oats And do my laundry too I throw my underwear in my New Yorker tote I head to the laundromat that’s just across the street Then I stroll to the oat shop to get a bite to eat, cuz CHORUS Now let’s say hypothetically I’ve got some moonshine And I’m looking to transport it right across the county line And I don’t want no smokey, haulin’ me off to jail I just walk to Porter Square and take the commuter rail We got a pretty good walk score You don’t need a car We got a pretty good walk score/ I can walk to barre We got a pretty good walk score/ average 89 We got a pretty good walk score We’re still waitin’ for that green line

Ice Ice Harvest Ice Ice Harvest In 1805 a bloke named Fred Had an idea pop in his head Frederick Tudor he had a thought To sell people ice even when it’s hot But where to get ice in the summer heat Fred would not admit defeat I’ll harvest ice from a frozen lake Store it till and summer and money I’ll make Ice Ice Harvest People laughed and thought it daft To try to sell ice and make cool cash But Tudor he didn’t give up He bought a ship and filled it up With blocks of ice cut from a pond He then set sail for the great beyond He shipped his ice to Martinique But his technique he’d need to tweak For when his boat pulled into the bay Most of the ice had melted away Ice Ice Harvest

I know you children are so sweet but now’s the time to turn up the heat. It’s almost voting day inside the USA If your parents have no plant to vote here’s what we say Annoy your parents until they vote It’s time to scream and whine until we have sore throats It’s time to misbehave to save the USA Make sure you parents have a plan to vote It’s time for us to act uncouth until they’re in the voting booth In person, absentee by mail or vote early If your parents have no plant to vote here’s what we say Annoy your parents until they vote It’s time to scream and whine until we have sore throats Whine at your mom or dad until they punch that chad Make sure your parents have a plan to vote It’s nearly election day here in America, and everyone over 18 needs to vote. Your parents probably say they’re too busy but how many times a day do you see them checking Facebook? So, next time your parents say they don’t have a plan to vote, Here’s what we’ll do: Annoy your parents until they vote It’s time to scream and whine until we have sore throats It’s time to misbehave to save the USA It’s time to irritate until Election Day It’s time to kick their shins until they vote Biden Make sure your parents have a plan to vote

I was working in the lab late one night when my eyes beheld and eerie sight for a monster had come into my place and said to me please cover your face He wore a mask He wore his monster mask A monster mask from his graveyard stash He wore a mask it didn’t give him a rash A monster mask He wore his monster mask I approached Drac’s coffin and his voice did ring It seems he was trouble by just one thing He opened the lid and shook his fist and said “Please maintain your social distance” He wore a mask He wore his monster mask A monster mask from his graveyard stash He wore a mask it didn’t give him a rash A monster mask He wore his monster mask

I ran a phone line For the first time From downtown Boston to Somerville (Woo-hoo) His phone number is “one” (Woo-hoo) Why don’t you call him up (Woo-hoo) It’s the home of Charles Williams He lives on Arlington Street In the 'Ville I’m Alex Graham Bell I got a patent but maybe stole it from an Italian Antonio Meucci (Woo-hoo) The next phone I installed (Woo-hoo) You dial “two” to call (Woo-hoo) It was in Winter Hill It’s the Roswell Downer’s home In the 'Ville I’m Alex Graham Bell

If you’ve got a ghost But you’re low on cash Who’ya gonna e-mail? Ghost Bursters If you need some help and you need it fast Who’ya gonna e-mail? Ghost Bursters You can’t afford that ghost You can’t afford that ghost Got a demon dog, or a scary creep Who’ya gonna e-mail? And you want them gone but you’re kind of cheap Who’ya gonna e-mail? You can’t afford that ghost You can’t afford that ghost We know you ain’t got much dough If a demon seems mean and you ain’t got much green Who’ya gonna e-mail? Ghost Bursters

Maura the Menorah went to Florida She waved bye-bye and said sayonara She told her friends that she won’t be back again At least until the day after tomorra One day Maura got out of bed She had a question so she said “I am curious and so I would really like to know Why I have 9 candles on her head” She asked her good friend Scout What all the candles were about Scout said “Beats me But I know who you should see Go see a latke down south” Maura the Menorah went to Florida She waved bye-bye and said sayonara She told her friends that she won’t be back again At least until the day after tomorra In Florida she climbed up on a table and said my dear latke if you’re able Can you tell me why I have candles numbered 9 Please give me your expert appraisal The latke said “dear Maura I don’t know Why your golden head is aglow I’m a tater fried in oil Not an expert, nor a moyle You should talk to the dreidel on the floor Maura the Menorah went to Florida She waved bye-bye and said sayonara She told her friends that she won’t be back again At least until the day after tomorra She asked the dreidel named Uri “Why are all these candles on me?” Uri said “I know why I’m about to blow your mind when I tell you ‘bout the Maccabees” There was a mean king named Antiochus He conquered our land and was mean to us He also told the Jews that they had worship Zeus And they even took over their temples Then there was brave Judah Maccabee Who rounded up his own army Antiochus was beat And his troops did retreat And the Maccabees went back to their temple But when they got back inside They couldn’t believe their eyes There were cracks on the floor And what was even worse There wasn’t enough oil for the candles They had enough oil for one night So with it the menorah they did light But a miracle occurred And the candles burned and burned Their menorah stayed aglow for 8 nights So that’s why we celebrate Hanukah And we eat oily foods like latkes Our menorahs we do light one candle for each night to celebrate foremothers and forefathers So Maura the Menorah came back from Florida She felt so glad she danced the Horah She said to her friends “I’ve come back again And I won’’t go to Florida any more-a”

Ex-X-mas Tree, ex-X-mas Tree You used to mean the world to me Ex-X-mas Tree, ex-X-mas Tree Now you’re lying in the street You had a star and lights that flash Now you’re nothing more than trash Ex-X-mas Tree, ex-X-mas Tree Now you’re just debris You once had presents under you Now you’re next to a broke vacuum Ex-X-mas Tree, ex-X-mas Tree Now you’re just debris My dearest tree I must divulge Soon you’ll be turned into mulch Ex-X-mas Tree, ex-X-mas Tree Now you’re just debris Your neighbor is an old couch And your friend’s Oscar the Grouch Ex-X-mas Tree, ex-X-mas Tree You used to mean the world to me Ex-X-mas Tree, ex-X-mas Tree You fill our home with Christmas cheer Ex-X-mas Tree, ex-X-mas Tree Oh, never mind, DPW’s here