4/25/2010 - Larry Groce

Larry Groce is a host on NPR. He sang 4 records of children songs for Disney. But for one song, Larry Groce was a dementia artist. And quite the song it was.
To me, it looks like Larry Groce was a child of the 60's -- he went around as a traveling musician from school to school and ended up getting funding from the National Endowment of the Arts to do so. He did have a song called, "Winnie the Pooh for President" which Disney picked up and released (I'm surprised they didn't sue him into oblivion!)
Well, in 1975, Groce wrote this song and started performing it in 1976, where it reached #9 on the Billboard charts. I can't even fathom comedy songs today making the Billboard charts with the merging of all the stations under one or two companies and no one breaking format, ever. Anyway, here is Larry Groce's tell of a double life -- "Junk Food Junkie".



Lyrics
Well you know I love that organic cookin'
I always ask for more
They call me Mr. Natural
On down to the health food store
I only eat good sea-salt
White sugar don't touch my lips
And my friends is always beggin' me to take 'em
On macro-biotic trips
But at night I take out my strongbox
That I keep under lock and key
And I take it off to my closet
Where nobody else can see
I open that lid so slowly
Take a peek up North and South
Then I pull out a Hostess Twinkie
And I pop it in my mouth!

In the daytime I'm Mr. Natural
Just as healthy as I can be
But at night I'm a junkfood junkie
Good Lord have pity on me!

Well at lunch time you can always find me
At the Whole Earth Vitamin Bar
Just suckin' on my plain white yogurt
From a hand thrown pottery jar
And sippin' little hand-pressed cider
With a carrot stick for desert
And wipin' my face in a natural way
On the sleeve of my peasant shirt!
But when that clock strikes midnight
And I'm all by myself
I'm working that combination
In my secret hide-away shelf
I pull out some Fritos Corn Chips
Doctor Pepper and an Old Moon Pie,
Then I sit back in glorious expectation
Of a genuine junk food high!

Chorus

My friends down at the commune
They think I'm pretty neat
I don't know nothin' 'bout arts and crafts
But I give 'em all something to eat
I'm a friend to old Euell Gibbons
And I only eat home grown spice
I got a John Keats autograph Grecian urn
Filled up with my brown rice
But folks, lately I have been spotted
With a Big Mac on my breath
Stumblin' into a Colonel Sanders
With a face as white as death
I'm afraid some day they'll find me
Just stretched out on my bed
With a handful of Pringle's Potato Chips
And a Ding-Dong by my head!


Chorus