"At one point in my haste to improve myself, I mixed up the telephone numbers of the Shick Center for Control of Smoking and the Evelyn Woods Speed Reading School. As a result, I can now smoke up to 300 cigarettes a minute, but I gave up reading."
The original song here has one of the best sing-along choruses ever, I could write parody lines for it all day, and the whole thing would probably be a parody standard if the rest of it wasn't such an incongruent paced beeatch to work with, hence this parody is sort of a compromise, what could be done with the verses dictated the angle (it ended up being an antithesis of the original) that was then milked as easy as a paralyzed, tipped over and udderly chuck-full cow in the choruses. As for a philomath the word is defined as a lover of learning, not to be confused with a polymath, one who already knows a helluva lot. (I had to look them both up so I guess I'm more of the former than the latter).

Since we were born jocks came to flush us down
A bunch of prodigies an' crew of water-combed clowns
Never played in no sports and we're never getting laid
But nerdy reputations still will get us A'd

No looks, but Gee! What's that to grief?
A worthy four eyes thinks IRL's bland
And we're the smart, we raise our hands

We have some nerdy looks
We keep our snouts in books
We're causing folks to laugh
We are the philomaths

We're ruling spelling bees
We know that carpe's "seize"
We're calculating graphs
We are the philomaths

Jocks' screaming in our ears and they always start to fuss
Get some three feet off them and then they would look just like us
We think: Hey dork, there's something you oughta know
I tell you po-ta-to is spelled with two o's

We flee each day, and everyone sees
We're getting wedged, for now it's a drought
But we're the smart, we're getting out!

We're on a course to Yale
Where we will get some tail
We're on a Harvard path
We are the philomaths

We are the teacher's pets
For now the gal we get
Maybe we need a bath
We are the philomaths

-Let me hear you recite Pi!

We're speaking fluent greek
And the odd wrist is weak
From holding atom halves
We are the philomaths

We sure don't get the drips
We're getting scholarships
We never learn enough
We are the philomaths

(Repeat last line x 4)

© Peter Andersson 2007