Yeoman Rand for some strange reason didn’t last a single season
Christine Chapel you can’t mute her, she’s the voice of the computer
Any time there was a vessel Checkov said it vas a wessel
Miniskirt is on Uhura, all the guys would like to do ‘er
When off duty I would posit Sulu stayed inside the closet
Scotty plays with antimatter, after Trek he got much fatter
If the Star Trek writers let him, Bones would always say “He’s dead Jim”
Kirk’s performance was distracting, he was always overacting
Roddenberry’s five year mission hit a three year decommission

I’m mister Spock, and my mother was human
But my father was Vulcan, so my logic’s true, and (I say)
I’m mister Spock, and my mother was human
Now I’m stuck in this spaceship with these weirdo crewmen

Turbolifts, communicators, boyish Russian navigator
There’s a black and there’s an asian, still the crew is quite caucasian
Red alerts and sensor readings, pon farr means that Spock is breeding
Facing torture death and terror, that’s the fate of red shirt wearers
Phasers and photon torpedo, Captain Kirk’s immense libido
In the past with Gary Seven, tried to make a spinoff happen
Romulans have ships that vanish, why weren’t any crewmen Spanish?
This is not the time to quibble, send the Klingons all the tribbles
Welcome to the federation, eighty shows in syndication

I’m mister Spock, and my blood is green
I’m mister Spock, up there on the screen (woo!)

Never saw a public restroom, beam me to a port-a-potty
Swordplay with lieutenant Sulu, getting drunk along with Scotty
Harry Mudd and all his women, Sarek and Amanda Grayson
Khan and Flint and Gorn and Landreau, Charlie X and Richard Daystrom
Like the elves right out of Tolkien, pointy ears for all the Vulcans
Tractor beam and ship’s deflector, let me be the show’s director
‘Nother show, another planet, creatures made of living granite
Quality was quite erratic but the fans are quite fanatic
Actors always improvising, we were very enterprising

I’m mister Spock, and my mother was human
But my father was Vulcan, so my logic’s true, and (I say to you)
I’m mister Spock, and my mother was human
Now I’m stuck in this spaceship with these weirdo crewmen

spoken:
Listen--remember, they're playing our song!

[switch to the last few bars of the theme from Star Trek, end]