Sung at the Dead Tongues gig at the IvanFest
to the tune of Hoochie Coochie Man
Geoff Nunberg

The gypsy woman told his mama
Before he was born,
You got a boy child’s comin’
He’s gonna be a son of a gun,
He gonna make them linguisticians
Jump and shout,
Then the world gonna know
Exactly what it’s all about.
Cause it’s him,
Everybody knows it’s him,
He’s the HPSG man
Everybody knows it’s him.

He’s got structures full of features,
He’s got bind and he’s got slash,
He’s got signs and he’s got synsems,
He’s gonna unify your ass,
He can process your construction
Any time he gets the urge,
But he don’t do derivation
And he don’t do move or merge,
But you know it’s him
Everybody knows it’s him,
He’s the HPSG man
Everybody knows it’s him.

On the seventh hour
Of the seventh day
Of the seventh month
The seven provosts say
We gotta get that boy some tenure
We gotta get that boy a chair
We gotta get that boy a glass of wine,
Lord, we got to keep him here
Cause it’s him
Everybody knows it’s him,
He’s the HPSG man,
Everybody knows it’s him.

Coda:
On the seventh hour
Of the seventh day
Of the seventh month
The seven provosts say,
He’s a thinker, he’s a lover,
And this you can tell,
He’s got seven hundred friends here
Who have come to wish him well.
Cause it’s him,
Everybody knows it’s him,
He’s the HPSG man,
Everybody knows it’s him.