"Yokel Chords" Medley

Excuse me?

Lisa Simpson with the school paper

Am I to understand you're purposely denying education

To these children?

That's a total mis-

Well, I wouldn't, uh-

I mean, that is to say uh-

You know, any fool could-

You see, the thing is-

I warn you, young lady

We can fumfer all day

We um, it's not that we um-

You see, what you're not grasping the, the-

I just uh, we don't, um-

We're not really, um-

You haven't heard the last of this!

Well, I think we've heard the last of this

No, you haven't

We're gonna have to give this some thought

Let's sing while we think

It'll make it more fun for everyone

How do we gag a blabbermouth like Lisa

How do we crush her First Amendment rights?

How do we stop her writing up what she saw?

Would she shut her trap

For a gift card from the Gap?

She might

Oh, how do we stop a royal pain like Lisa?

How do we make Miss Righteous less uptight?

You have a lovely voice, sir

Ugh, why do you have to make everything weird?

You asked to see me?

Lisa, would you consider tutoring Cletus's children?

You'll be happy, they'll be happy

And I can go home and enjoy some delicious fondue

Made with the fondue set I bought you for Christmas?

No, so what do you say Lisa?

Me? A tutor

The hillbilly tykes

Will become my tutees

Hey, kids

The plow mule done burst a girl critter

These colorful bumps is funny

And guess what?

Ben and Ken, the Street Magic Men, are only the beginning

The city is a treasure trove of culture

And multiculture

Mistos and lattes and grandes and ventis

Browsing at bookstores with fat cognoscentis

Books about Dali, Degas, and Miro

Those are the folks that you yokels should know

Pretentious laughs at Bunuel retrospectives

Outsider art made by mental defectives

Enjoying opry that ain't grand or ole

Comparing Jim Carrey to Dario Fo

Your minds are opening

Take it home

Eating tapas

Freestyle rap-as

Mrs. Skinner is Mame

I'll charm the husk right off of your corn

We finally experienced cultural things

And now, they don't seem

So lame

What a number

You kids got talent

And I should know

I used to have it

I have eight teeth, goin' on seven teeth

I have a curvy spine

We live on landfill

And feast on roadkill

While we all drink moonshine