Should I Leave Newark Alone…? Nah! What Would Be The Fun In That!?

I’m sorry Newark airport is a crud hole and one of the only ways to get to a real city (i.e., New York) is via what looks suspiciously like a prison bus.

I’m sorry downtown Newark looks and smells like an open sewer and many of the denizens prowling the streets are cockroach coloured.

I’m sorry that fans of the Devils don’t rally behind their team when they are losing (as evidenced during last night’s thrashing by the Habs) and instead boo them roundly.

I’m sorry that your state’s claim to fame is a silicone-filled, plasticine puss-bucket known as a “Snooki”.

I’m sorry no one in your town can take a joke.

I’m sorry your state is referred to as “New York’s armpit”.

I’m sorry your team’s new barn lends itself to nicknames like “The Poo” or “The Cess Pru”.

I’m sorry that next to the fine, generous residents of places like Elizabeth (esp. the proprietors of Centanni’s), you sound like an arrogant, self-righteous, holier than thou, stereotypical Joisey b***h.

I’m sorry you’ve never found true happiness in your life…because if you had, you wouldn’t give a lowly little duckling like me the time of day.

There.  How’s THAT for a complete, well rounded apology?

Anyway, you guys and gals know me.  I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s s’more lyric mangling.  I meant this to be a straight-up Newark bashing, but it turned into a paean to an ex-Duck.

With apologies to Sweeny Todd’s “No Place Like London”

You are young…

Life has been kind to you…

You will learn.

There’s a hole in the world like a great black pit

and the vermin of the world inhabit it

and its morals aren’t worth what a pig can spit

and it goes by the name of Newark…

In the suites of their barn sit the privileged few

Making mock of the vermin in this freezing zoo

turning talent to filth and greed…

I’ve seen arenas and all their wonders,

And the mocking of the fans is no crueler than at the Pru!

One must admit, there’s no place like Newark!

…My mind is far from easy.

These very streets are filled with shadows,

Every last one of ’em.

There once was a player with no strife

and he was talented…

The foolish rookie signed his life

The game itself was all his life…

and he was fast as light,

and he was virtuous

and he was naive.

But there were other men who knew

that he was talented…

So they added this “captain” to their crew

And by God! The crowd, it grew!

He removed the stigma from the team

Restored all hope, the dream of dreams

And all others did fall, so it would seem

So soft!

So young!

So lost

and oh, so full of shame.