I’ve operated karaoke nights
In Sydney and LA
Heard much off-key singing
That filled me with dismay

But there was one voice
Out-of-tune and loud
Guaranteed to clear
Even the drunkest crowd

It belonged to Karaoke Ken
And he followed me around
A microphone was his best friend
And once he got started,
He didn’t want to end

He’d change into his tuxedo
For his signature song ‘My Way’
And sing Beatles melodies
‘Til the break of day

He’d call on females to join him
For ‘Islands in a Stream’
And show his vigorous dance moves
Some found quite obscene

He was so terrible,
He became a folk hero
And bathed in the light
Of the celebrity glow

He changed his appearance
By wearing a bright red wig
And even found an agent
Who got him some paid gigs

He called himself Karaoke Ken
And he followed me around
A microphone was his best friend
And once he got started
He didn’t want to end.