Sid vicious played a four-string fender bass guitar and couldn't sing
And everybody hated him except the ones who loved him
A ukulele has four strings, but Sid did not play ukulele
He did smack and probably killed his girlfriend Nancy Spungen
If only sid had had a ukulele, maybe he would have been happy
Maybe he would not have suffered such a sad end
He maybe would have not done all that heroin instead
He maybe would've sat around just singing nice songs to his girlfriend
So play your favourite cover song, especially if the words are wrong
'Cos even if your grades are bad, it doesn't mean you're failing!
Do your homework with a fork and eat your fruit loops in the dark
And bring your etch-a-sketch to work and play your ukulele
Ukulele small and fierceful, Ukulele brave and peaceful
You can play the ukulele too it is painfully simple
Play your ukulele badly, play your ukulele loudly
Ukulele banish evil ukulele save the people ukulele gleaming golden on the top of every steeple
Lizzie Borden took an axe, and gave her mother forty whacks
Then gave her father forty-one, and left a tragic puzzle
If only they had given her an instrument, those puritans
Had lost the plot completely see what happens when you muzzle
A person's creativity and do not let them sing and scream
And nowadays it's worse 'cause kids have automatic handguns
It takes about an hour to teach someone to play the ukulele
About the same to teach someone to build a standard pipe bomb… YOU DO THE MATH
So play your favourite cover song, especially if the words are wrong
'Cos even if your grades are bad, it doesn't mean you're failing
Do your homework with a fork and eat your fruit loops in the dark
And bring your flask of Jack to work and play your ukulele
Ukulele, thing of wonder ukulele, ukulele wand of thunder
You can play the ukulele too, in London and down under
Play Joan Jett, and play Jacques Brel and Eminem and neutral milk ho-
tel the children crush the hatred play your ukulele naked and if anybody tries to steal your ukulele, let them take it
Imagine there's no music, imagine there are no songs
Imagine that John Lennon wasn't shot in front of his apartment
Now imagine if john lennon had composed "imagine" on the ukulele
Maybe people would have truly got the message
You may think my approach is simple-minded and naïve
Like if you want to want the world then why not quit and feed the hungry?
But people for millennia have needed music to survive
And that's why i've promised john that i will not feel guilty
So play your favourite Beatles' song and make the subway fall in love
They're only $19.95, that isn't lots of money
Play until the sun comes up and play until your fingers suffer
Play LCD sound system songs on your ukulele
Quit the bitching on your blog and stop pretending art is hard
Just limit yourself to three chords and do not practice daily
You'll minimize some stranger's sadness with a piece of wood and plastic
Holy fuck! it's so fantastic, playing ukulele
Eat your homework with a fork and do your fruit loops in the dark
And bring your etch-a-sketch to work, your flask of jack, your vibrator, your fear of heights, your Nikon lens…
Your mom and dad, your disco stick, your soundtrack from "karate kid"
Your ginsu knives, your rosary, your new Rebecca Black CD
Your favourite room, your bowie knife, your stuffed giraffe, your new glass eye
Your sousaphone, your breakfast tea, your nick drake tapes, your giving tree
Your ice cream truck, your missing wife, your will to live, your urge to cry
Remember we're all going to die… so play your ukulele!