Parody of “Richter Scale”, words by
J. Kent Clark
, music by
Elliott Davis
For
more information
and other parodies, see
www.songworm.com
Reprinted from
Songworm 2
Parody lyrics ©11/6/88 by Bob Kanefsky. All rights reserved. The copyright of the original lyrics and music remain with the holder(s) of the original copyright.
Dr. Kinsey wrote a book on sexual behavior.
Claimed there’s no dichotomy in who a man can favor.
Talked of a continuum from zero up to six.
Now I use his handy scale to calibrate my tricks.
Take that cute guy smooching with his girl beneath the highway.
Not much chance that he’ll be sending any smooches my way.
In the old days I’d have said he’s hopeless and he’s straight.
With this new vocabulary, I can simply state:
He measures point-four on the Kinsey scale, so little he’s repressed it.
Point-four on the Kinsey scale, don’t even dare suggest it.
I can see he looks at me like carnivores at plants.
Point-four on the Kinsey scale: I haven’t got a chance.
There’s a fellow standing with his arm around his buddy.
Unashamed affection that deserves more careful study.
A lot of good it does me, though: I’d almost bet my life
That woman on his other arm has got to be his wife.
He measures one-two on the Kinsey scale, some casual glances stolen.
One-two on the Kinsey scale, a chummy night of bowlin’.
I can see he looks at me like something else is cooking.
One-two on the Kinsey scale: I’d better keep on looking.
See that guy in pink chiffon and makeup to his eyebrows,
Every move theatrical and every sentence highbrow?
You might say he must be gay; he’s such a screaming queen.
But if you know the signs to watch it plainly can been seen:
He measures one-nine on the Kinsey scale, he’d rather date my sister.
One-nine on the Kinsey scale, so how could he resist her?
I can see he looks at me like cats look at dry food.
One-nine on the Kinsey scale: His answer would be rude.
Here’s the kind who hides behind his baby in a stroller.
Likes to keep his sexual life traditional and polar.
Detours ’round the cruising ground each day as he strolls by.
Why’s he come this way at all? Well, here’s the reason why:
He measures three-one on the Kinsey scale, a lot to be suppressing.
Three-one on the Kinsey scale, enough to keep him guessing.
I can see he looks at me like dieters at pies.
Three-one on the Kinsey scale, but will not meet my eyes.
See that fellow preaching on the corner with his Bible,
Waxing histrionic on the sins for which I’m liable?
Claims his goal’s to keep my soul from burning in the pit.
That is why it’s sad to see what he will not admit:
He measures four-six on the Kinsey scale, but manifests it strangely.
Four-six on the Kinsey scale, he thinks he wants to change me.
I can see he looks at me like Adam at the fruit.
Four-six on the Kinsey scale: Too bad. He’s kinda cute.
See that poor guy standing with his hands deep in his pockets?
Every time a man walks by, his eyes bulge from their sockets.
Fleeting yens for female friends
Convince him that he’s straight.
But judging by his queer behavior I would calculate
He measures five-two on the Kinsey scale, and who’s he think he’s fooling?
Five-two on the Kinsey scale. I do believe he’s drooling!
I can see he looks at me like Nancy looks at joints.
Five-two on the Kinsey scale: A lot of wasted points.
Who’s that guy who’s looking at me, kinda shy and furtive?
More than friendly glances, and they’re getting more assertive.
I know compatibility’s a far from certain bet,
But now my chance is just as good as straight folks always get:
He measures six-oh on the Kinsey scale, a queer kind of perfection.
Six-oh on the Kinsey scale, though I may face rejection,
I can see he looks at me as if he’s in a trance.
Six-oh on the Kinsey scale... Let’s give it half a chance!