Iago

Tune: Fred Fisher's "Chicago"

Iago,
Iago—
That son of a bitch!
Speaking of which,
Iago,
Iago—
He made me a pitch;
I bought it.

Is it any wonder I blame the name
Of Iago—
Iago?
The underhanded, two-faced, sadistic snitch—
And son of a bitch!

That swanky
New hankie
Was not the McCoy—
Merely a ploy.
He used me. She never had a boy toy.

Sure, I admit I blew my own life;
I was the one who wasted my wife:
But Iago?—
Iago pulled the switch—
That son of a bitch!

Othello,
Othello
Had one little quirk—
Goin' berserk!
Othello,
O-schmello—
Why shouldn't I smirk?
I've earned it.

Mother Nature made a mistake in mak-
Ing Othello
Othello—
The intercontinental ballistic jerk—
Mad as a Turk!

That skanky
Old hankie
Ignited a flame
Nothing could tame.
So sue me—but let's not play the blame game.

Maybe I stepped across the odd line;
Granted, perhaps, the plan was all mine;
But Othello?—
Othello made it work—
By goin' berserk!

I point at him,
And he points at me;
Still, there's a point
On which we agree:
Desdemona,
That groaner,
Was the cause of all the fuss.
Don't blame it on us!