Remember Mad Magazine and their semi-regular song parodies? Yesterday, for no particular reason at all, I made up two of them. I know I’m not the only one to do this because I’ve read some fine parody songs right here at the Dope. You should share them because it is the holiday season and a time for sharing. Here are mine:
Sung to the tune of Good King Wenceslas:
We ain’t got no Christmas cash
We ain’t got no money
Good for us the kids are bad
It ain’t even funny.
We will get them lumps of coal
We will get them t-shirts
Just so that they’ll always know
Christmas brings a world of hurt.
And for you non-holiday Scrooges and Michael Jackson reformers-- Sung to the tune of, well, guess:
Beat it! Beat it!
Then get a tissue and clean it!
Use some hand lotion
Use some warm spit
It doesn’t matter, just lay off the kids
And beat it!
Johnny, did you make those up or did you take them from the magazine? Because if you took them from the magazine, I don’t think that’s allowed. Copyright and all.
I just made up naughty lyrics to Santa Baby the other day. I’m not sure whether to post them here or not…they’re not XXX-rated explicit, but they’re not Hayes Code compliant, either…
Oh man, those MAD magazine ones were so funny! My favorite was called “The Sun of Summer,” sung to the tune of “The Sound of Silence.” It went, in part:
And my skin
is three shades
of cinnamon,
Chin to shin.
Burning with the sun,
Of summer.
That was the height of wit, as far as I was concerned.
As recently as Sunday, while getting out Christmas decorations I found myself singing the Mad parody of “Deck the Halls” (called “Fill the Bars”), which was a pretty blackly comic riff (for them) on holiday over-celebrators. An excerpt:
See the busy intersection,
(Fa la la la la, la la la la)
Here come cars from each direction
(Fa la la la la, la la la la)
See the pile-up when they’re meeting,
(Fa la la, la la la, la la la)
What a novel Christmas greeting!
(Fa la la la la, la la la la)
Yeeah, don’t think they’d get away with that one today . . .
Kenny Rogers had a hit calledCoward of the County, which was annoying after the 20th hearing.
“Promise me, son,
That you’ll bite your woman’s buns.
Wear a two-day stubble when you can.
Folks won’t think you’re queer,
If you have another beer.
Damn right you have to drink to be a man.”
I wrote that. If you’re a KR fan, and it spoils the song for you, then ppppppppppbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt!
I’ve got friends with white faces
And a burning cross that you know chases
Them Jews away, then we call it a day.
We’re mighty big on the master races
We wear slip on sheets and pillow cases.
Yes, I like friends with white faces.
A little something I put together after the Pacers/Pistions riot, to the tune of Seasons In The Sun.
With apologizes to Terry Jacks
*Goodbye O’Neil, you frickin’ bum
Hope you and Jackson found that fracas fun
Together you climbed up to Ron
Who was acting like a schlong
Now for three months your ass is gone
Who’d have thought at the game’s start
that a quick foul would make them fall apart?
One little shove lead to a fight
and that a 20-foot cup flight
would be best dunk of the night?
You guys suck, you’re all scum
Now the Pacers season’s done
And Artest has all year
To promote his rap career
Hope your time on the pine
Lets you think about your fine
All that cash, gone to skids?
Sprewell could’ve fed his kids*
My most succesful song parody, from a thread about celebrities you find frightening. Someone mentioned Kelly Ripa, and, naturally, that made me think of the BOC…
Regis’ time has come
Now that Kathy’s gone
Audience fears the Ripa
And her grating nasally whine (It’s just daytime TV)
Come on baby (don’t fear the Ripa)
Baby take my hand (don’t fear the Ripa)
We’ll be able to fly (don’t fear the Ripa)
On weekdays at noon
La-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la-la
(To the tune of The Candy Man)
Who can take some KoolAid
Add some cyanide
Lead Nine-hundred twelve in a mass-suicide?
The Reverend Jones can- Good ol’ Jimmy Jones can!
There was a lot more to it but that’s all I recall.
Speaking of “Be Our Guest”, here’s one from the little-known Disney sequel Beauty and the Cthuloid:
Be our guest
Be our guest
As your planet we infest!
Kill a virgin for Cthulu
Let Yog’Soggoth do the rest!
You will find that our kind
Drive you quite out of your mind;
As you face the Creeping Chaos
Can your horror be suppressed?
Let’s be plain: please refrain
From a trip to central Maine
Or you’ll end up dead, dismembered or possessed!
Come on and join us now!
We’ll conquer anyhow!
Don’t be blessed!
Be a pest!
Be our guest!
*Come and listen to my story ‘bout a man named Fred
A bold minister with lots of hate inside his head
And then one day he was lookin’ for a cause
And said to himself “I’ll hate homosexuals!”
(Queers you know, sodomites)
Well the first thing you know ol’ Fred’s a picketeer
Cursing anything that acts remotely queer
We think that somewhere else is where he really oughta be
And while he’s at it he can take his whole darned family!
(Siberia, Timbuktu)
Well now it’s time to say goodbye to Fred and all his kin
We’re sorry but we can’t say that we’re glad that they stopped in
And if by chance they should come back to this locality
We’ll have to show them some of our great hospitality!
(Tar that is, feathers, don’t come back now, ya hear?)*
