bro why have the past two puppet history songs been so sad im literally crying

The first time i heard this i straight up cried

this song is so sad and for what 😭😭🤧

Every tike i losten to this i actully sob, like its so fricken sad. Bro it hits so hard.

I cant unhear ryan saying “Randy Newman?”

All of the Puppet History songs in order from season 1-6

puppet history

Livin in France
Out in le country
A little more limited menu than you see in Paris

Got no filet mignon
Got no boeuf bourguignon
No bouillabaisse or creme brûlée or charcuterie

Ahh but when the pangs of hunger
howling in the gut grow stronger
Fangs come out and then I long to
MUNCH ON THE TERRIFIED FRENCH

French HEADS, I’m eatin’ em nightly
Bon apetite mon frère, no need to heat I’ll eat ‘em rare

French HEADS, season ‘em lightly
A bordelaise for Claire, a pinch of pepper on Pierre

HOWLS

Call me beast
Call me a monster
Just don’t call me late when a tasty young shepherd’s in the meadow alone

Go on and shame me
Ah but ya made me
It’s whatcha get when you’re hangin with a wolf in the quiet low valleys of the ecotone

Ahhh I realize it’s reckless
But this wolfy’s feeling peckish
If you don’t protect your neck it’s
CHOMP CHOMP AU REVOIR! Ha ha ha ha

French heads, they’re oh so yummy
Paprika dusted on Denis, a side of skewered Genevieve

French heads, in my tummy
As for below the neck, no thanks
I’m good
I’ll take the check PLEASE

French Heads

I’m a city boat
Metropolitan frivolity’s my guarantee
I get a lotta folks
Steppin aboard to have a drink on me

And I don’t know why
But I sure do cry
Thinkin bout that gal who used to hang out on me
Now she’s gettin into trouble on the seven seas

Ching Shih
You traded city livin for piracy
Ya think she
Ever thinks about a crummy little junk like me
And sure I’m jealous of her pirate ship
But I don’t blame her none for wantin to dip
She’s gotta be who she’s gotta be

I miss the good ol’ days
Rockin in the harbor til the mornin comes
But now you’re makin waves
Heard you really fuckin stuck it to that government scum

And I hope you know
That I miss you so
But I wouldn’t want ya hangin up your buccaneer suit
When there’s swashes needin bucklin and there’s booty to loot

Ching Shih
I heard some people callin you the pirate queen
It sinks me
To know you’re out there on some other boat livin your dream
But I’m happy for your sizable crew
Even if it kinda gives me the blues
Ya gotta do what ya gotta do

You’re out plundering
And I’m left wondering
Would a blubberin landlubber like me
Ever stand a chance out on the open sea

I’m drowning in the ocean
Of my own emotions
May the parting tide carry the tears I cry
To her ship as it slips neath the indigo sky

Ching Shih
It took me a while but now I see
You’re free
As the gulls that skate across the ocean breeze 
Maybe one day you’ll think of settling down
On a cozy boat that’s closer to town
Until then I guess I’ll see you around

Ching Shih

Making a mummy

Here left to lurch
Twixt two lovely swaying birch
Trees: Igor of Kiev
Husband to a wife
Who would face near any strife
To avenge his savage death

Olga
She murdered the whole town
We frankly are surprised
She hasn’t thought to chop us down

Olga
Sainthood she attained
But to cross her is to doom yourself
To join the countless maimed

She’ll off your family, Merc your friends
She’ll hunt your cat and dog and when
You think she’s finally calling it a day
She’ll catch you when you’re unaware
Pour acid down your underwear
And laugh because she’s jokerfied that way

She’ll lop your toes into a jar
And pack it up and mail it far
And on your grandma’s birthday she will find
A bloody box addressed to her
Containing nothing less than your
Ten piggies and she’ll lose her god damn mind

Olga
She may be a saint
But rightly pissed to see her sweetie
Split right up the taint

Olga
Legit she’s got no chill
Piss her off if you’d like
To experience being killed

She’ll simply make you poop your pants
That’s right she’ll make you poop your pants
And if you’re think that you won’t poop your pants
Just wait because you’ll poop your pants
Because she’ll make you poop your pants
And kill you once you’ve pooped your poopy pants

You’ll hear a knocking at the door
And when you ask who’s there to your
Relief it’s just your neighbor Joan Calhoun
You open up
IT’S OLGA! FUCK!
She’ll kick your shins and punch your nuts
Then skin you while she sings a happy tune

She’ll slit your throat like that one scene
In Gone Girl, know the one I mean
Where NPH is-- well, you get the gist
If it’s not clear the message here
Is if you hold existence dear
Make sure you don’t end up on Olga’s list

OLGA!

The song that plays at the Professor's funeral

Puppet History - The Professor's History (Funeral Song)

Window Song - Puppet History Season 5

Cloud Song - Puppet History Season 5

Pope Hat Song - Puppet History Season 6

Tell ya what I think it sure is fun
To make people die
You should see how friggin funny ya look
When the lights go outta your eyes

And man I miss that ol Bubonic Plague
What a treat, what a hoot, what a gas!
Seein pigs eat bodies in the street
TBH, it kinda kicked ass

And sure I worked my fingers to the bone
Bodies here, bodies there, bodies everywhere
Lumpy people dropping left and right
The putrid smell of rotting flesh in the air

All good things come to an end
And to be honest, I needed a rest
But I’ll never forget how great it felt
To cash that overtime check

Plague Days (Y.O.D.O.)

Yeah it’s me
That big pile of diamonds
I’m that pricy ice
Oh but I’d look so nice around that neck

Marie Antoinette she didn’t want me
She told me to my face that I was ugly
But I guess in the end I got the upper hand
Because they didn’t cut my head off 

And sure, they hacked me into tiny pieces
A devastating thing for all my nieces
And yes necklaces can have nieces
When they’re anthropomorphic

I was just a pile of jewels
Made Rohan look like a fool
But a fella should know better
Than to trust a simple letter

So I guess if there’s a lesson
To this whole backstabbing mess than
It’s that if you think you know the queen
To make sure that you know the queen

Like, has she ever talked to you?
Or looked at you or smiled at you?
Or even seemed to think of you?
Or met you in the daytime?

Maybe ask her for a license
Or to pose with today’s paper
And if she doesn’t want to
Then my dude I think it ain’t her

Pricy Ice

Human flotsam
Ain’t two words, that ya likely like to see

Oh but a sneaky German U-boat
Left a nasty little present
For the ol’ Britannic and me

Well I’m a propeller
Ain’t a violent feller
Choppin people up
ain’t my scene

Oh but Iceberg Charlie
Put the pedal to the metal
And what happened
Still haunts my dreams

Oh-well-a chop chop chop!
And-a scream scream scream!
Bodies floating in the sea
A-chop chop chop!
And-a scream scream scream!
HOW’D THIS BLOOD GET ALL OVER ME!!!!!

I’m a propeller
An awfully sorry feller
And all I ever wanted was a life of luxury
But World War One it ruined my fun
My life is misery

Propeller's Lament

I’m god
Okay?
I’ve got something to say
Those dummies dancing half to death
That wasn’t me, no way

I made the stars and moon and sun
And also I made everyone
Like Genghis Khan, Celine Dion,
All dogs and cats, fruit bats, your mom

And sure some people worship me
But then I did make everything
Like Jupiter and Tupperware
And Diet Coke and teddy bears

But I didn’t make those people dance 
Oh way back when in olden France
I’m not that guy, that’s not my scene
You think that I would be so mean?

And sure I killed their crops for years
And preyed upon their deepest fears
Of squalor, plague, no food to eat
But dancing? Man, that’s not my beat

Know what, I lied, it’s all on me
I got those dingbats to their feet
Boy they could really jitterbug
But when they died I pulled the plug

So what, big whoop, who cares, come on
It’s not the worst thing that I’ve done!
Like bed bugs, pinkeye, Tampa Florida
And also the rest of Florida

So yeah I made those people dance 
Oh way back when in olden France
I’m sorry I know it was rude
I guess I’m just a zany dude

Didn't Make 'em Dance

Choo choo
I'm a train!
Choo choo
This is the song I sing!
Choo choo
All abooooooard!

Y’know it sucks to be a train
Luggin' normie losers through the cold and the rain
Same path, same track, same route
The monotony’s enough to make a choo choo POUT!

But then one day you catch a break
Gonna take a VIP to the Old Line State
Uh, who me? Yes you. But who?
Well I’ll tell you who-
The soon-to-be president of the
UUUUUUnited states.
They call him honest Abe.
He’s got a funny little beard
And he’s lanky and weird
But he sure knows just the words to say

But then some racist dipshits	
Took out a hit and chose to sit and wait-
For the man they call Abe
And robbed this lonely locomotive of a real exciting day

And then all of my choo choos
Turned into nothin but boohoos!

Boo hoo
Choo
Choo choo
Boo choo hoo hoo
Boo Hoo!
Choo boo hoo
Boo hoo hoo
Choo choo hoo
Boo hoo
Choo choo

Chugga Chugga Boo Hoo

Pompeii, a beautiful day!
Check me chillin in a geological way
I’m Vesuvius,
Some say the grooviest
Volcano they know in the west coast bay

And excuse-a-me-ah, a but ya see-ah
I got a little case of planetary diarrhea
So uh oh-oh-oh! I’m gonna blow
Ashes up the asses of the masses below

I’m Mount Vesuvius!
And, look, I hate to do this
Just gonna bury yr town rq :(
But spewin’ goo’s my truth, sis :)

Apologies to the bay of Napoli
But I gotta lotta lava gotta get outta me
Well I’m hot and I’m quakin! And shakin geothermally
But it’s not to be taken! Please don’t take it personally!

Pompeii! If you’re feeling it! Shout it back!
Oh, okay, well, they’ve covered in ash. —   

I’m Mount Vesuvius
And, look, I hate to do this
Just gonna bury ur town rq :(
Cause spewin’ goo’s my truth, sis :)

And I’m sorry but I can’t control these grim volcanic urges
And I hate to cake your town beneath my pyroclastic surges
And you have to know that even Mother Nature gets the runs
This could all have been prevented with a million tons of Tums!

I Spew Goo

Go on 'n' take me
In your pocket, I will ride
Buy a little gumball, do some laundry
I’ll provide

But I’ll tell you man lately,
I ain’t feelin' right
Feelin' rough around the edges
Feelin' a little light

Well, these nasty scammers
Clip me down 'n'
Do me wrong

They got me wonderin'
Where the pieces of me
Have gone

Every day
Bit by bit, whittle me down
Little pieces of me
all over this town

I’m hopin' just maybe
If they clip me enough
Won’t be nothin left except
a pile of me that’s just dust

And who knows
Gust a wind could blow on by
Lift that pile on upward
Lemme see that pale blue sky

Up past the clouds,
glimmer in sun,
then float back down
And scatter me
All over this town

Pieces Of Me

Matilda(s) and Stephen - song from Horrible Histories series 5
Music: Richie Webb
Lyrics: Dave Cohen
Performed by Martha Howe-Douglas, Alice Lowe, Larry Rickard and Jim Howick

Pieces Of Me

Puppet History

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