-> "Big Iron"
Original Song Title:
"Big Iron" (MP3)
Parody Song Title:
To the town of Sacramento came a stranger one fine day
He was dressed up like a tailor, never smiled, his eyes were gray
Hung his shingle out for bus'ness and unpacked his leather grip
Organized the threads and needles, wore a big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip
Folks dropped by, and bid him welcome, asked what distance he did roam
Told them he had come from Houston, where for many years called home
Said he had an urge for ramblin', so he made the dusty trip
Said to call him Sam the Tailor - had this big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip
In the town was one more tailor, ran a shop on Bingham street
Wasn't keen on competition, he went by the name of Pete
He was tough and he was meaty, ran a laundry on the side
When he heard of Sam the Tailor, set his jaw and looked real snide
Walked away squint eyed..
Well, the first week Sam was open, people came in by the score
Had to hire three more helpers with the work there in the store
Jobs for alterations, patches, shirts to press and pants to pleat
And to Sam it didn't matter just how much it irked old Pete,
Really irked old Pete
Many customers were switchin' leavin' Pete, and tryin' Sam
Sam was giftin' every customer a big fat juicy ham
Fifty hams he gave away, got 'em from the butcher, Kip
Lucky rafflers won free irons from that big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip..
Six months passed since he'd opened; Sam was well liked in the town
And the chamber of the commerce honored him for comin' 'round
At a meeting and a banquet they presented him a key
A gold key to Sacramento, one prize Pete would never see
Pete would never see
It was too much for Pete's ego, so he went to visit Sam
Said he'd take no more frustration, and it had to end, by damn!
Then, he told Sam, here's the challenge, you and I will have a duel
And the loser has to close down and must leave town, that's the rule
Leave town is the rule.
Sam agreed, and that next morning, they were both downtown at dawn
Town officials had set up twin ironing boards to press upon..
Each would have ten pair of trousers, all unpleated, wrinkled up
With two pints of distilled water for the steam, there in a cup
For steam, in a cup..
As a pistol shot was fired, their big duel was on it's way
Watching them begin their ironing came a big crowd on that day
Sam took the lead, hung three pair on the rack as Pete just glared,
Pete was nervous, ironing shaky, hung just two, not neatly paired
Two, not neatly paired..
Those big irons, were a' flyin'..on the boards hissed clouds of steam
Sam was down to one last trouser, it looked like he'd reign supreme
But then Pete began to rally, until neck and neck they were
Proctor Silex's like lightning, to the crowd, were just a blur
To the crowd, a blur...
On his final pair of trousers, iron falls, Pete hollers "ouch"
While Sam just keeps on pressin' - knows he has to beat that grouch
Whistle blows and Sam's declared the winner of the duel, that's that
Next morning Pete heads out of town, cuz' Sam out-pressed him flat
Big iron beat him flat..
Big iron, big iron,
No question, Sam's the winner, his big iron beat Pete flat
There's irony in that..
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|How Funny: ||5.0|
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