Lyrics copyright 1993 by Joel Polowin. Music: "Officer Krupke" from West Side Story, by Leonard Bernstein.

Picard: Attention, Captain of Klingon vessel!

Klingon: Who, me?

Picard: Yes, you. Explain your presence in this system. Is there any reason why I should not tow you back to the nearest starbase?

Klingon: [sings]

Dear kindly Captain Picard,
You gotta understand --
We grow up on unspeakar-
Ble tales of Kahless' Hand.
Our Moms throw heavy objects,
Our Dads throw heavy blows.

And we all get rust-stains from our clothes!

Gee, Captain Picard, we are very upset;
It's bad to grow up with a lobster on yer forehead.
We ain't homicidal, we're misunderstood.
Deep down inside us there is good!

Klingon: There is good!


There is good, there is good,
There is untapped good.
Like inside, the worst of us is good.

Picard: That's a pretty pathetic explanation.

Klingon: Ain't it though? You should hear the Romulans. [jerks a thumb off-screen]

Worf: Sir! Romulan warbird de-cloaking off the port bow!

[Red lights, diverse alarms, shields raised. Romulan commander appears on screen.]


My dear Picard, you wanna
Hear tales that really reek?
We used to all have honor,
But now we lie and sneak.
We all grow up dishonest,
With intrigue all around --
Our home planet's name keeps switchin' round!

Yeah, Captain Picard, you are really unkind,
We Rihannsu are compulsively dishonest, you'll find.
We can't help we're raised to be twisty and curved --
We're psychologically disturbed!
We're disturbed!

We're disturbed, we're disturbed,
We're the most disturbed.
Us Romulans are mentally disturbed.

Picard: "Romulans"? But your commander just called you -- I'm SURE I heard him say "Rihannsu"?

Romulan: But did you hear correctly? Am I twisted, or are your ears?

Picard: Well, granted, my hearing's not as good as, say, a Ferengi's, but --

Ferengi: [appearing on screen] You rang?

My Dad does speculation,
My brother's into stock;
They pawned all my relations
To get Mom out of hock.
They sold me to a circus,
Said "Dumbo" was my name,
Big-ear Trauma, they're the ones to blame!

Yes, Captain Picard, we are tired of the role;
If it isn't the ears, you're calling all of us "trolls"!
We must have your women, it's not that were sick,
Just that we are all socially thick!
We are thick!

Ferengi chorus:
We are thick, we are thick,
We are thick thick thick,
Like we all are socially real thick!

Picard: So it's not that you need your ears shrunk, just that you need your skulls thinned down? I'm sure that our medical staff could arrange something appropriate.

Ferengi: Ooh, the red-headed female hu-man? I bet SHE treats diseases...

Data: Sir, another vessel is approaching. Very large... configuration... cubical.

Picard: Oh, merde.

British peers: [teleporting in] That word is French! [vanishing again]

Borg appears on screen:

You used to be Locutus
But then you got away
We ask that you not shoot us
Until we've had our say
You parsed our Prime Directive,
'It makes an ASS of 'IM, and makes MI LATE!'

Gee, Captain Picard, you are really a pain,
And if that didn't give us enough strain on the brain --
Our internal com-net is coming unglued,
It keeps on repeating "I am Hugh!"
"I am Hugh!"

Borg chorus:

Klingons: The trouble is we're bullied.

Romulans: The trouble is we cheat.

Ferengi: The trouble is we're ugly.


Data: Why are they all singing?!

Worf: Their trouble is, they're STRANGE!


Captain, can't you help us make a change?
Gee, Captain Picard, we are down on our knees,
No one believes in villains with behaviour like these!
Gee, Captain Jean-Luc, what on Earth can we do?
Oh, Captain Picard --

Picard: STOP IT, Q!

Permission granted to use or distribute this text for any non-commercial purpose, so long as its content is not altered and this note is appended. I'd appreciate receiving a copy of any publication in which it is printed: Joel Polowin / 205 Toronto St. / Kingston, Ontario / CANADA K7L 4A9 . E-mail:,,,