Thursday

Wherein I write excretable lyrics regarding my unnatural fondness for Mr. Eddie Izzard



(The first word should be sung with much gusto. Really. Can't go over the top here.)
Well!
I have a crush
on a man in heels!
A man who appeals
to my viewing zeal

I like to watch
this man who acts
a man who, in fact,
wears mules with slacks

I want to bake
for this cross-dressing rake
an upside down cake
then my need (utterly platonic, I swear to you. I'm not getting all NSFW over here) he'll slake

(This part should be performed while making air fists.)
Oh, Eddie!
I'm ready! I won't shirk
in the face
of your commitment to skirts

(Heartfelt chorus)
We can dine!
What a time!
Have a ball!
Hit the mall!

Yes, I'm in love
with a man in boots
lace up boots
not traditionally manly boots ...
Ad nauseam.*


* Oh, yes, it continues for Quite A While. I haven't even begun to discuss**, for example, the many fabulous ways Mr. Izzard wears swishy overcoats.
** I feel I may be a sufficient threat to musical theater. Why, if Stephen Joshua Sondheim were dead, he'd be rolling in his grave right now. As it is, I'm sure he is quickly growing most concerned about my usurping his title.

2 comments:

Martha said...

I know his name, but am unfamiliar with his work. I know he's a Brit, a comedian, and has a penchat for dressing in drag. Is that close? I, too, find him oddly attractive. I shall learn the lyrics to your song, and join you soon on stage at a theater near you!

Jennifer said...

Did Sondheim write stage directions like these? He *should* be worried.