Thursday, October 18, 2012

Improv WIF song

I think I need to write a song about WIF.  I can't promise anything, but here it goes.  It's to the tune of "Hit Me With Your Best Shot."

When I come in on Fridays you weigh-eigh-eigh me.
I don't like it, I feel like I'm three.
You say, "get on," let's get down to it.
You better be up, or we'll have to call it quits.

WIF me on your scale.
You're gonna WIF me on your scale.
WIF me on your scale.
I hate this day.

I get on with my shoes on and you don't care.
I don't hide weights in my underwear.
You say "good job," you made it today.
Keep on going so that you can stay.

WIF me on your scale.
You're gonna WIF me on your scale.
WIF me on your scale.
I hate this day.

You say you don't like to be the police.
I nod my head and say capisce.
I step off of the scale and I say hoo-ray
I didn't get fired, no not today.

WIF me on your scale.
Get on!
WIF me on your scale.
WIF me on your scale.
I hate this day.

Okay, that took about 10 minutes, not that bad. 

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