Hand in the blender
It's a cliché
You bet I've seen The Goonies
It's 'cause he is singing about love gone flat
Albums are long, yet where'd he go wrong?
What's wrong with his repertoire?
He's supposed to be legend, myth, and man

Spoofed rap and spoofed country
Album Grammies, he won three
I love him, but despise all these deep cuts

Yeah, I never liked Weird Al's love songs
They're repetitive
They mean nothing
To me. And I never laughed at his love songs
'Cause, well, other love songs don't mix the words
With words like "my spleen"
And I'd rather watch Planet Sheen
Unless Weird Al gets up and
Writes it down, with all his luck, and
He'll write a good love song, foreseen
(Yeah) Foreseen, yeah

Tattoo on forehead
No prosthetics
Things no one should hear
Yet I conspire there's better lyrics
Hid in his cellar room
Behind the broom
Will I tolerate silence more?
Heck no. You'll find me there

Downstairs, I retrieve it
The lyric sheet's so hard to find
I read it, but it's worse than MacArthur Park

So why'd Weird Al write all those love songs?
Ain't necessities
We ain't need one
I ask, just where did he get all those love songs
All those weak ideas? All the girls reject
Him for "no one else"
I'm here listening to The Else
Until old Al Yankovic
Writes it down, and gives saccadic,
Supernal, good love songs to belt

Hear me, Al
Crude words you should guide out
Just be my pal
Just stop when you write "gout"
'Cause I believe there's a day
You can top the charts once again

'Cause you wrote a good love song
That's not juvenile
It's what they want
But if you don't wanna write us a love song
There's my sniper rifle. It waits for you
Well, go on and write some good love songs
You're inferior
To Rihanna
I said, I'll never like all of his love songs
"That's What Tinder's For"*. I'm a hypocrite
That ain't Weird Al's song
But I wanna help him along
Even if we're plagiarizing
You'll just find me vaporizing
Gotta get a fake ID, 'cause you won't find me
Though it's me caused old Weird Al to pen his top song
Top song, (yeah) yeah