Hey-o, Philos. So I went a little crazy with the Kilmer Surgam and included several fabulous pieces in addition to those picked by our judges. I'm sure you recall how the ever brilliant Michal Richardson delivered the following, and while we can't recreate her singing—which doubtless would have put to shame even the shameless Ke$ha—we can let you take another gander at the bad poetry.

Tick, Tick

Michal Richardson

Wake up in the morning feelin’ rather shitty.

(Hey, what up, girl?)

Got a rash shaped like a bull’s-eye; baby, it ain’t pretty

Before I leave, check my knees, and my elbows in back

‘Cause when these bastards get you, your system goes slack.

I’m talkin’ ‘bout sudden shooting pains, pains

Slowin’ down of yo’ brains, brains

Joints hurt when it rains, rains


Gettin’ weak around the knees, knees
Fallin’ down at the parties

Startin’ to get a little bit woo…zy…

Eyes pop, make it stop

Now my body’s heatin’ up

What a sight, what a plight

When I see the tick bite

Tick glommed to my arm,

And I’m callin’ up my mom. Oh, whoa-whoa, oh. Oh, whoa-whoa, oh.

Make it stop, get it off

Can we blow the bastard up?

It’s on tight; better fight

So I don’t get encephalitis

Tick, tick, unstick!

Somebody fetch my tweezers, quick! Oh, whoa-whoa, oh. Oh, whoa-whoa, oh.

Now, the party in my head has gone supersonic

But if I go in for my treatment, symptoms won’t be chronic.

Pain in my nerves and my joints is simultaneous

And on my body’s surface, for a disease that’s cutaneous.


I’m talkin’ ‘bout neurons that don’t fire, fire

Memories I don’t acquire, quire

Situation’s gettin’ dire, dire

I’m talkin’ ‘bout cognitive impairment

But I’ll dance until I hit the pavement

Go until I hit the pavement…

…pavement…


Head pops; make it stop

Gonna party ‘till I drop

Tonight, I’mma fight

This disease that’s called Lyme

Tick, tick, I won’t be licked

It was just a little nick! Oh, whoa-whoa, oh. Oh, whoa-whoa, oh.


Head pops; make it stop

Gonna party ‘till I drop

Tonight, I’mma fight

This disease that’s called Lyme

Tick, tick, I won’t be licked

By a buggin’ little prick; no! Oh, whoa-whoa, oh. Oh, whoa-whoa, oh.


Got my hands up

My brain breaks down

My heart, it sounds

Like a dance beat


I’m all washed up

Body’s besieged

By this fatigue

Yeah, you got me. [YAWN.]


Got my hands up

Put your hands up

Put your hands up…

Do you think it might be lupus?


Head pops; make it stop

Gonna party ‘till I drop

Tonight, I’mma fight

This disease that’s called Lyme

Tick, tick, I won’t be licked

It was just a little nick.

Oh, whoa-whoa, oh. Oh, whoa-whoa, oh.


Head pops; make it stop

Gonna party ‘till I drop

Tonight, I’mma fight

This disease that’s called Lyme

Tick, tick, I won’t be licked

By a buggin’ little prick, no!

Oh, whoa-whoa, oh. Oh, whoa-whoa, oh.

The Philolexian Society
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