Lord, why am I so easily duped
To believe joy forever will last
Only to find myself anally shtupped
Confronting a future of boredom so vast?
Since the news came, lord, I feel like a sap
When thinking about it my soul is in blight
Since the news came, lord, I can't get it up
Larry Sanders is ending tonight
Starting tomorrow my nights will be darker
Lacking Hank's head to refelct the moon's light
Starting tomorrow TV will be duller
Lacking Darlin's front to give me delight
Arti and Beverly left me, oh pity
To the mercies of Yatspan and "Sex and the City"


television open
Inside, a dead channel
Who'd press for rerun?


Ode to Paula
Paula, Paula, talent-booker
Come and interview my heart
In our late night TV program
You will always top the chart
At your rounded nifty target
I would throw my little dart
In our race to lasting stardom
You will always, love, headstart;
I feel like I've been knowing you
For five seasons and a half
It's too bad that Larry shagged you
And then threw you off his staff


Silence where laughter was
Night half hour longer
solitariness


The Tale of Phil, the Jokes-Writer
There was a jokes-writer named Phil
Who was sued by the staff's homophile
'Cause he laughed at his bunk
But when they got drunk
They came to a, so to speak, deal


Tomorrow
Larry, our romance is ending
Tonight, for the last time you're bending
I'll applaud and I'll cheer
But tomorrow I'll sneer
'cause you'll rebecome Garry Shandling