I know you’ve always been haranguing
About our pre-nuptial deals
The fears I harbor aren’t very big ones
But you know how I feel
It seems a tad bit fishier
To wed a guy like you
When you have got all these weirdo kinsmen
And they want ME in their crew!
Don’t be hurt now--I still love you
But I must let you know
How crazy I’ll be if they get me
So, more relations? No!

See that fella, he seems so sleazy
He might be your uncle (I think)
And his behavior’s downright reckless
When he’s had a drink
When last he spotted me, he whispered,
“Did you fall from heaven, hot chick?”
Had I my way, I would have broken his neck
Just like a stick
Of all morals, he’s bereft
And with the alcoholic flow
Is one more reason I will still
Say, “More relations? No!”

Now Aunt June, she’s been forbidden
From showing a semblance of glee
Her sourpuss expression
Makes it look like someone has spiked her tea
But I know she’s more than able
To deliver a snide remark
I act nice, but she quickly snaps,
“Did you dress in the dark?
Be a good American, start dressing
Like you are not some old ho-bo!”
Yet you insist that yes, I really do
Want more relations...no!

I feel ya, but there’s your brother...
For him, I pity that sap
He will argue utter trifles
And his logic flies off the map
He gets into trite semantics
In a debate or spat
Don’t you question his religion
He’ll scream at the drop of hat
And though a muzzle would be nice
Silence he won’t know
You think I’ll put up with him?
Ha! More relations, no!

Sister, she’s always robbing you
‘Cause from juvey she’s just escaped
Duct-tape shirts and fishnet pants
She will wear as people gape
Her life’s growing diminishingly vital
As she smokes ten cigarettes
Though she doesn’t talk, she’s loathsome--
She spray-painted my new Corvette!
I will not judge her by her looks
Because her hair’s dyed indigo...
But she justifies my worried claims
Of “More relations, no!”

Grandpa Phil, he’s self-assured
About his immortal claims
If he would fight a tiger
He thinks he will escape unmaimed
It’s a curse how he’s so senile
He forgets which direction is up
And I think I saw him pouring mud
Into his coffee cup
Now he thinks that the microwave is
Some new TV show
Stubborn kooks like him will drive me nuts...
Some more relations? No!

Now down the street, your hippie cousins
Are smoking weed out on the lawn
They play the Dead on full blast
And the incense fumes hang until dawn
They are still reading Abbie Hoffman
But in their beliefs, they aren’t deft...
With their now-old-fashioned attitudes,
It’s like Nixon had never left!
While their neighbor’s laughing, they wildly shout,
“Free love is the way you should go!”
Their annoyance ain’t something I need! Oh lordy...
Gah! More relations, no!

Your grandma, in her aging
Overbearing she’s become
She knitted me an overcoat
That wouldn’t fit Tom Thumb
Then she smothers me with lipstick smears
And constricts me in her hugs
But worst of all, her fruitcake...
Shoved down my throat, oh ugh!
When I’m caught in her hassles
It will only bring me woe
I’ve got these on my side (and they’re grating)
So, more relations? No!

Seems there’s a hero’s welcome
For your dad, who’s rather rich
But the way he treats you?
You don’t get a pinch!
In yen and pounds, in dollars and euros,
Rolling in the cash he’s earning
And while he ignores his family
The gasoline he’s burning
In his Italian fast sports car
He will so quickly go
But he forgets that he has some kids...
I say, “More relations, no!”

So it is clear we’ve got some issues here
How will reunions be arranged?
And unlike your unwanted presents
Your kin can’t be exchanged
These folks are as welcome to me
As a case of raging flu
I’d rather change my current places
Maybe I’ll move to Timbuktu?
But one upside--this would make
One hell of a Springer talk show!
You don’t want that? So hear me:
MORE RELATIONS? NO!