Pop Hates the Beatles

My daughter needs a new phonograph She wore out all the needles Besides, I broke the old one in half I hate the Beatles She says they have a Liverpool beat She says they used to play there Four nice kids from offa the street Why didn't they stay there? What is all the screaming about? Fainting and swooning Sounds to me like their guitars Could use a little tuning The boys are from the British Empire The British think they're keen If that is what the British desire God Save The Queen No daughter of mine can push me around In my house I'm the master But when the British come into town Gad, what a disaster Little girls in sneakers and jeans Destroyed the territory 'Twas like some of the gorier scenes From West Side Story Of course my daughter had to go there The tickets are cheap, she hollers I was able to pick up a pair For forty-seven dollars When the Beatles come on the stage They scream and shriek and cheer them Now I know why they're such a rage It's impossible to hear them Ringo is the one with the drum The others all play with him It shows you what a boy can become Without a sense of rhythm There's Beatle books and T-shirts and rings And one thing and another To buy my daughter all of these things I had to sell her brother Back in 1776 We fought the British then, folks Parents of America It's time to do it again, folks When they come back, here's how we'll begin We'll throw 'em in Boston harbor But please, before we toss 'em all in Let's take 'em to a barber