THE TWILIGHT ZONE: A TRIBUTE IN SONG, PART 1

Heavenly shades of night are falling: It’s Twilight time. Or, more to the point, it’s the beginning of our musical tribute to Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone. I’ve been preparing for this ever since I realized this is the 50th anniversary of the premiere of Rod Serling’s masterpiece. For the next few posts, we’re going to be singing the stories of The Zone to the tune of a diverse program of tunes. If for some reason you don’t recognize any of the melodies we’ll be singing, or need a refresher on them, I suggest you do as I did to make sure I got them right: For whatever I didn’t already have in iTunes (which I used as one reference source), I went and looked it up on YouTube or Googled the lyrics to make sure I got the meter and rhythm right. There are ways of doing these things!

And now, without further ado, the curtain rises and our program begins:

MR. SERLING. A tribute to the man himself. Sung to the tune of “Mr. Sandman”.

(Bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum-bum.

Bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Mr. Serling, write us a dream. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Make it the weirdest that we’ve ever seen. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Spin us a yarn of things too strange to mention (bum-bum-bum-bum).

The kind you conjure from your Fifth Dimension.

Serling, give us a fright. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

We hear you beckon from your Zone of Twilight. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Make us shake and make us scream.

Mr. Serling, write us a dream.

(Bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum.

Bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Mr. Serling, tell us a tale. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Give us an ending that makes us go pale. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Tell us of mannequins who turn to shoppers (bum-bum-bum-bum)

And neo-Nazis played by Dennis Hopper.

Serling, you really are (bum-bum-bum-bum)

The master teller of tales so bizarre. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Make us shake and make us scream.

Mr. Serling, write us a dream.

(Bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum.

Bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Mr. Serling (“Yes?”), fill us with fear. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Make Finchley’s gadgets tell him, “Get out of here.” (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Tell us of Martians playing tricks in diners (bum-bum-bum-bum)

And haunted cars that get the truth from liars.

Serling, we love your show. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Your signpost tells us right where we want to go. (Bum-bum-bum-bum.)

Make us shake and make us scream.

Mr. Serling, write us, Mr. Serling, write us,

Mr. Serling, write us a dream.

(Bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum.

Bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum.)

WALKING DISTANCE by Rod Serling. In which a world-weary advertising executive takes a walk back to his home town, through the Twilight Zone, and into his own childhood where he meets himself as a boy. Sung to the tune of “The Longest Time” by Billy Joel.

(Boom, boom, boom...) Oh, whoa, oh, oh,

On a walk through time.

Whoa, oh, oh,

On a walk through...

I was feeling tired and stressed out.

My achievements left me filled with doubt.

(Ah-ah-ah...)

I missed my boyhood, so I hiked back to Homewood

And spent the day there on a walk through time.

There I was, myself as just a kid,

Carving on that post just like I did.

(Ah-ah-ah...)

How I was wary, because of how I scared me

The day I met me on a walk through time.

Whoa, oh, oh, oh,

On a walk through time.

Whoa, oh, oh,

On a walk through...

Then I went to see my Mom and Dad

In that cozy home that we once had.

(Ah-ah-ah...)

But I confused her, telling Mom I’m from the future

And that I’d come there on a walk through time.

Dad said I had better hit the road.

He didn’t want to see the proof that I showed.

I just wanted them to see the truth,

I’d come to find my youth; that was all that I hoped for.

So I made my way back to the park

And the fun I had there after dark.

(Ah-ah-ah...)

And I tried calling to myself and saw him falling

And changed my childhood on my walk through time.

My leg got caught in the carousel.

Got ground up mighty bad; it hurt just like hell.

Now I know one summer’s all we get,

That in this life I’ve led, that is all I could hope for.

For the past no longer will I beg,

As I walk back on my limping leg.

(Ah-ah-ah...)

Goodbye to sorrow. I’m living for tomorrow

‘Cause that was the lesson of my walk through time.

Oh, whoa, oh, oh,

On a walk through time.

Whoa, oh, oh,

On a walk through time.

Whoa, oh, oh,

On a walk through time...

THE MONSTERS ARE DUE ON MAPLE STREET by Rod Serling. In my favorite episode, a friendly suburban neighborhood descends into paranoia and violence because of a UFO and oddly selective power failures. Sung to the tune of “On the Street Where You Live” from My Fair Lady.

Things were lovely here in our neighborhood.

But since something went by overhead it’s not so good.

Now we’re nervous wrecks, for we all suspect

Monsters lurk on the street where we live.

Lights go off and on at our neighbors’ place

And we think our friends are really spies from outer space.

We’re all looking out, for we have no doubt

Monsters dwell on the street where we live.

And oh, the shocking discovery

That we shot the guy down the street.

And no, there’ll be no recovery

From this riot now we’ve let fear take the lead.

We’re the aliens, watching from afar,

And we can’t believe what suckers these fool Earthers are.

It’s come down to this, with their prejudice:

Soon we’ll own all the streets where they live!

NEXT POST: The musical mayhem continues!