A song about the Parol Evidence Rule. (For the non-law students in the audience: the Parol Evidence Rule is simply a rule that says if you have a contract in writing, you're not allowed to claim there's stuff you talked about that wasn't included in the contract that should be enforced. For example, you buy a car, the contract says nothing about a CD player, and you claim the seller said he'd install a new CD player. You're out of luck. And one more thing -- Parol is pronounced with a long o, like parole, or hole, or goal, or birth control.)

We met on a park bench in the summer
A day that surely changed my life
Because just seven hours later
I asked you if you'd be my wife

You said you needed time to think it over
And forty-five seconds passed like years
You said you'd love to have a wedding
And we could register at Sears


That's when I knew that we different
From two separate income brackets
You buy generic acetaminophen
I have 3 ten thousand dollar tennis rackets
So I asked you to sign
A pre-nuptial agreement to say
That when I divorce you
You'll be back at the Sizzler buffet


I told you that I'd always support you
But wrote down you don't get a cent
Told you you'd never have to worry
"You'll be poor" is what I meant

And since I am a contracts lawyer
And you dropped out of school at eight
You did not really read the contract
And make me set the record straight


So nine months later it's our trial
I found someone slightly thinner
You want back the shirt you bought me
I want you to starve for dinner
And that's what you signed
The contract says you have zero claim
What I said doesn't count
From a rule that has a name

It rhymes with birth control
Which we didn't use, so you'll have a kid, and you'll both be on the dole
But I don't care
Saved by parol
The parol evidence rule
Keeping rich people rich
That's what they teach us in law school

(Note: I haven't actually studied yet... so my understanding of the Parol Evidence Rule may be totally screwy. Oh well.)