Monday, July 31, 2006

Can't Say His Name (I Got a Name, Charles Fox / Norman Gimbel)

Here's another Harry Potter parody, to the tune of Jim Croce's I Got a Name.

Can't Say His Name

Voldemort is such a bad sort of guy,
Can't say his name, can't say his name.
He's alive, but I'm not sure how or why.
Can't say his name, can't say his name.
When I try to, the others say I'm not allowed,
But it darkens my soul just like a shroud.

Got to defeat him my way.
Till I defeat him my way,
I'll fear the one who made my parents die.

It is overwhelming just to be me,
But I've got Ron, yeah, I've got Ron.
There is no one else I would rather be
Since I've got Ron, yeah, I've got Ron.
Oh, and I've got Hermione and I've got Hagrid,
So despite it all, I'm one lucky kid.

Got to defeat him my way.
Till I defeat him my way,
I'll fear the one who made my parents die.

All the world depends on me.

Though I don't know what's coming down the road,
I've got a scheme, I've got a scheme.
Sure as Neville Longbottom's got a toad,
I've got a scheme, I've got a scheme.
And I know I can count on help from Dumbledore.
How could any wizard want something more?

Got to defeat him my way.
Till I defeat him my way,
I'll fear the one who made my parents die.


On Hold (Longer, Dan Fogelberg)

Dan Fogelberg is one of my favorite singers, and Longer is one of my favorite songs, but waiting on the phone after wading through an automated system is not one of my favorite anything.  (Still got Superman Returns on the brain; it must have been very lonely for him out in space all that time...)

On Hold

Longer than any item list on eBay,
Longer than that sword was in the stone,
Longer than you could see Les Miz on Broadway,
I have been on this phone.

Longer than FDR was in the office,
Longer than Superman was alone,
Longer than any corpse was in a coffin,
I have been on this phone.

"Please hold." That is what they told me.
"Soon someone will be with you."
Now I can't recall my question.
Oh, what can I do?

Through the day, as the minutes turn to hours,
Burning time, I will sit here and moan.
I could be outside, playing games or picking flowers,
But I'm stuck on this phone.

Longer than any item list on eBay,
Longer than that sword was in the stone,
Longer than you could see Les Miz on Broadway,
I have been on this phone.
I am stuck on this phone!


Friday, July 28, 2006

Wake Me Up When December Ends (Wake Me Up When September Ends, Billie Joe Armstrong)

I'm one of those people who can't get enough of Christmas; in fact, I'm already starting to think about it. But for a lot of people, the month leading up to it is one big hassle. This little parody, to Green Day's Wake Me Up When September Ends, is for them.

Wake Me Up When December Ends

Autumn has come and passed.
My sanity could never last.
Wake me up when December ends.
Garland on the grocery shelves,
Visions of reindeer and elves.
Wake me up when December ends.
Hunting for gifts again, courting bankruptcy,
Fearing the rifts again within my family.
I would waste no applause
On that oaf called Santa Claus.
Wake me up when December ends. 


Autumn has come and passed.
My sanity could never last.
Wake me up when December ends. 

Blast! Jingle bells again
Pounding down into my brain.

Wake me up when December ends.
Hunting for gifts again, courting bankruptcy,
Fearing the rifts again within my family.
I would waste no applause
On that oaf called Santa Claus.
Wake me up when December ends. 


Wake Me Up When September Ends 

Thursday, July 27, 2006

I Am a Lonely Toad (Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Billie Joe Armstrong)

Last year I went to a Green Day concert, and I actually enjoyed it. So I figured I'd temper all these oldies with Boulevard of Broken Dreams, a song that is practically brand-new. This parody imagines Toad from Arnold Lobel's Frog and Toad books at a point in his life prior to meeting Frog. Unsurprisingly, he is feeling sorry for himself.

I Am a Lonely Toad

I am a lonely toad,
The loneliest that I have ever known.
I am in the throes
Of abject misery, and I walk alone.

I'm sitting in the stream,
Thinking about flowers and ice cream.
Oh, yes, I can dream
But never act because I must walk alone.
(I walk alone, I walk alone.
I walk alone, I walk a...)

The tadpole I once was cries out inside me.
Whatever happiness I feel is fleeting.
I wish a friendly frog would come and find me.
Till then, I walk alone.

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah,
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah

The whole world should be mine.
All the other toads are doing fine.
I can't help but whine,
I'm a lonely toad; I walk alone.

Can you see the lines
On my face from all the times I've cried?
Just send me a sign
To show that one day I will not walk alone.
(I walk alone, I walk alone.
I walk alone, I walk a...)

The tadpole I once was cries out inside me.
When I find happiness, the feeling's fleeting.
I wish a friendly frog would come and find me.
Till then, I walk alone.

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah
Ah-ah, Ah-ah

I walk alone, I walk a...

I'm sitting in the stream,
Thinking about flowers and ice cream.
Oh, yes, I can dream
But never act because I must walk alone.

The tadpole I once was cries out inside me.
When I find happiness, the feeling's fleeting.
I wish a friendly frog would come and find me.
Till then, I walk alone.


He Didn't Scour the Shire (We Didn't Start the Fire, Billy Joel)

I am a huge Tolkien fan, and I was thrilled with Peter Jackson's film trilogy. But the purist in me cried out on a few occasions, and many I know cried out even louder, so I thought I'd point out all his mis-steps. I figured Billy Joel's We Didn't Start the Fire would give me a lot to work with. I kid because I love, Pete. And because sometimes you frustrate me...

He Didn't Scour the Shire

We are rabid Tolkien fans, and we make great demands
On that bearded, nerdy weirdo who's the guy who took
The professor's thrilling epic, made it base and anti-septic.
Start to finish, he diminished our favorite book.

What of Bombadil? Peter Jackson said nil.
Arwen replaced Glorfindel; we think that's a sin.
Rosie is a barmaid, Sam wishes he had stayed
In the Shire. We are tired of the changes he made.

He didn't scour the Shire.
Even though we pleaded,
Peter never heeded.
He didn't scour the Shire.
Though we tried to fight it,
Peter wouldn't write it.

Middle-earth's long history must remain a mystery
To the newbies who are too befuddled to know
Just why one big eye's such a threat to this shy,
Flaccid furry fellow who's called Frodo.

Helm's Deep? We weep every time Legolas leaps
Like a surfer and Gimli says to Aragorn, "Toss me!"
Have to hold us down when Sam-fool turns around,
Heading home all alone while bawling profusely.

He didn't scour the Shire.
Even though we pleaded,
Peter never heeded.
He didn't scour the Shire.
Though we tried to fight it,
Peter wouldn't write it.

We admit we're a bit grossed when man and elf swap spit.
Would you tell these fans, why'd you axe Saruman?
When did the ents become so completely ho-hum?
Pip and Merry? Well fed, fruity couple of pot-heads.

Sam gets rope and complains, grumbles each time it rains.
Covets potatoes in a flash video.
Gollum goes free-lance, swears and does a crazy dance
On a dumb awards show. How low can he go?

He didn't scour the Shire.
Even though we pleaded,
Peter never heeded.
He didn't scour the Shire.
Though we tried to fight it,
Peter wouldn't write it.

Hobbits are too young, immature and far-flung,
Nonsense accents tripping upon their tongues.

Pippin's always in the mood to abscond with someone's food.
Scary Merry lectures ents severely.
Frodo has doe eyes. Worst of all, though, is Samwise.
Cries all day! Clearly gay! What else do we have to say?

He didn't scour the Shire.
Even though we pleaded,
Peter never heeded.
He didn't scour the Shire.
Though we tried to fight it,
Peter wouldn't write it.

Legolas makes teens swoon. Gimli wants to kill him soon.
Aragorn sings, hating that he's king.
Boromir, who's hopping mad, wants the Ring for his dad.
Gandalf smokes and guzzles mead while he sits and tries to read.

Faramir is cruel and crass. Eomer has got no class,
Never done poking fun at 'most everyone
Who is less than four feet tall. Celeborn's part is too small.
Scrubbing bubbles win the war. We can't take it anymore!

He didn't scour the Shire.
Even though we pleaded,
Peter never heeded.
He didn't scour the Shire.
Though we tried to fight it,
Peter wouldn't write it.

He didn't scour the Shire,
And when he is gone,
We will grumble on and on and on...


Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Tom Bombadil (Don Quixote, Gordon Lightfoot)

Here is an ode to that most enigmatic of Tolkien characters, Tom Bombadil, as eccentric in his own way as Don Quixote. I can't really take issue with his omission from the blockbuster trilogy, but I thought he deserved a bit of attention...

Tom Bombadil

Through the woodland, through the valley
Comes an horseman wild and free.
Plucking flowers, singing nonsense...
Who could the sprightly fellow be?

He seems young, but he is ancient.
He is wise but unaware,
Richly clothed but often naked.
Bombadil is free from care.

Reaching for a hobbit's hand,
He rescues him from Old Man Willow's grasp
And, prancing like a fairy prince,
He sings upon the mossy forest floor
Till he can sing no more,

"I have left Goldberry waiting
In our home, not far from here.
Very soon, I'll start relating
My adventures through the years.

I have ridden Fatty Lumpkin
Over hill and over dale.
Middle-earth is in a slump,
But nature's beauty will not fail.

See the rabbits in the meadow.
See the thrushes in the trees.
See the branches, steeped in shadow,
Swaying in a gentle breeze."

Reaching for a hobbit's hand,
He laughs, as giddy as a bubbling stream.
Then striking up a lordly pose,
He sings upon the mossy forest floor
Till he can sing no more,

"See the flowers timidly
Peek out to greet the rays of sun.
See the endless starry sea
That fills the sky when day is done.

See the dew that lightly rests
Upon the leaves in gleaming drops.
See the songbirds build their nests,
A joyful job that never stops.

See the berries ripe for eating.
When we get back to my lair,
We will have a happy meeting.
You will see Goldberry's hair.

Hey dol, merry dol, me laddies!
Ring dong dillo! Ring a dong!
See the world with me and Fatty,
Happy as the day is long!"

Reaching for a hobbit's hand,
He babbles, unconcerned with what he says,
And standing like a statue now,
He sings upon the mossy forest floor.

The setting sun illuminates
The verdant clothes that drape his lanky frame
As he repeats his name,
Ol' Tom Bombadil.

Through the woodland, through the valley
Comes a horseman wild and free.
Plucking flowers, singing nonsense...
Who could the sprightly fellow be?

He seems young, but he is ancient.
He is wise but unaware,
Richly clothed but often naked.
Bombadil is free from care.



Don Quixote

The Marvelous Boy (The Marvelous Toy, Tom Paxton)

I'm going to see Peter Paul and Mary in two days! Yay! The Marvelous Toy was my cousin's favorite song at one time, and she sang it whenever we went on car trips together. It's probably my favorite part of the video version of their holiday concert, too. I hope they sing it at their concert...

The Marvelous Boy

When he was a wee little lad, full of love and joy,
Young Peter Pan decided he would stay a little boy.
He sprinkled on some fairy dust and thought a happy thought.
And did Peter Pan glance home again? No, he certainly did not!

He can fly like a bird and fight like a knight.
He torments Captain Hook.
He lives in Never-Neverland.
You can find him in the book.

The first time Wendy met him, she admonished in surprise,
"Why, here is a boy who has lost his shadow, and look at how he cries!"
She sewed one foot and then the other, and then she clasped Peter's hand.
"Oh, please," she begged him, "can I join you in Neverland?"

He can fly like a bird and fight like a knight.
He torments Captain Hook.
He lives in Never-Neverland.
You can find him in the book.

She first called John and then called Mike while Tink flung insults with flair.
Then Peter showed the children how to be as light as air.
They started to fly, and though Nana yapped, she was quickly left behind.
Following the second star to the right, Wendy wondered what they'd find.

He can fly like a bird and fight like a knight.
He torments Captain Hook.
He lives in Never-Neverland.
You can find him in the book.

Well, the years go by too quickly, it seems, and when Peter came back one spring,
He scarcely recognized Wendy, who now wore a wedding ring.
His eyes nearly popped right out of his head, and he yowled in misery
Till her young daughter piped up from her bed, "Peter, won't you please take me?"

He can fly like a bird and fight like a knight.
He torments Captain Hook.
He lives in Never-Neverland.
You can find him in the book. 


Iconic (Ironic, Alanis Morisette)

It occurred to me the other day that every song I have parodied was written and performed by a guy, barring Mary Travers, who's only one of three so I'm not sure that quite counts, and Julie Andrews. Anyway, I figured I'd better introduce a tiny bit of gender equality. But isn't it Ironic that the song is an anthem to... yet another guy? Am I really this misogynistic? Well, at least I mention Lois and Martha...

Iconic

He wears capes and sports an "S"
Emblazoned in red on a suit on his chest.
I don't know why he's eager to be
Everybody's savior, but it's fine with me.
And isn't he iconic? Dont'cha think?

Like a plane or a bird in the sky.
Everybody cheers when they notice him fly.
He is such a nice, helpful kind of a guy.
No wonder they call him Super!

He loves Lois Lane, who's a hard-hitting girl.
He is so busy saving all of the world,
But still every once in a while he gets away
To tiny Smallville to visit his mom for the day.
And isn't he iconic? Dont'cha think?

Like a plane or a bird in the sky.
Everybody cheers when they notice him fly.
He is such a nice, helpful kind of a guy.
No wonder they call him Super!

Well, he has a funny way
Of sneaking into his suit when everything's not okay and putting everything right.
Oh, he has a funny way of helping you out when you think everything's gone wrong
'Cause he's a hero from outer space...

He acts shy when he is in his disguise.
He wears eyeglasses in front of his eyes.
He is Jimmy's best friend; they are a couple of nerds.
He has only held onto his job
'Cause of how speedily he types words.
And isn't he iconic? Don'tcha think?
A little too iconic... Yeah, I really do think.

Like a plane or a bird in the sky.
Everybody cheers when they notice him fly.
He is such a nice, helpful kind of a guy.
No wonder they call him Super!

He has a funny way of sneaking on his suit.
He has a funny, funny way of helping you out,
Helping you out.


Tuesday, July 25, 2006

I Dig Nuclear Fusion (I Dig Rock and Roll Music, Paul Stookey / Jim Mason / Dave Dixon)

In three days I'm going to see Peter, Paul and Mary. I can't wait! Since I've got them on the brain, here is a parody of I Dig Rock and Roll Music inspired by Spiderman 2.

I Dig Nuclear Fusion

I dig nuclear fusion
And I love to get the chance to play with atoms!
I figure I could cause confusion,
But ethics get in the way.
That Osborn guy annoys me.
He's such a bossy boy.
He bugs me, but hey! He's willing to pay.

I think it's mean that such a genius as I am
Has to pander to him.
But I got a good thing goin',
'Cause I'm certain I see a glimmer.
Lately I've been thinkin'
That I am on the brink, and
My goal's not out of reach at all!

Think I'll have a demonstration,
Show what I can do.
Oops! Unforeseen complications.
Lost my wife, and I'm blue.
Now I have robot arms, see?
I'll admit that they alarm me.
This has been such an awful day!

I dig that Peter Parker.
Yeah, I think that he is one groovy kid.
But I've grown too much darker
To regret what I did.
I got him good and angry.
He'll bring me Spiderman.
Before too long, victory will be mine!


The Ghost of Has-Beens Future (Maxwell's Silver Hammer, Paul McCartney)

As I was riding in the car on the way to my camping destination on Friday, it occurred to me that I had not yet parodied a Beatles song, a situation I determined to remedy. I'm somewhat disturbed that the first song I came up with was Maxwell's Silver Hammer; does this reveal some sort of psychosis? Nonetheless, I ran with it. Here is a song for all those flashes in the pan who think they're such hot stuff until they swiftly vanish into oblivion...

The Ghost of Has-Beens Future

Once, Vanilla Ice, Nick Lachey and Sporty Spice
Met up for a drink.
"How long will I last in the business, do you-ou think?"
That's what Sporty asked,
But before the grueling task
Of working it out
Fell to her companions, somebody was heard to shout,
"Not too long!" Who would say such a thing?
The voice began to sing,

"'U can't touch this!' M. C. Hammer
Exuberantly said.
It is such a shame that Hammer's
Career is clearly dead."

Men of high renown - all the members of O-Town -
Readied for a show,
Carefully inspecting their faces in the-e glow
Of the bright stage lights
When one of them jumped in fright.
"Listen up!" he cried.
Faintly, in the distance, they heard a voice sounding snide.
And though they couldn't see him at all,
They heard him cruelly call,

"'U can't touch this!' M. C. Hammer
Exuberantly said.
It is such a shame that Hammer's
Career is clearly dead."

Oops, the Baha Men
Barked up the wrong tree again.
Hanson's bopping's through.
All Saints never, ever will figure out what to do.
At a grad party,
You might hear Vitamin C;
Otherwise they're toast.
(Otherwise they're toast.)
Each one of them is haunted by this peculiar ghost.
Oh, who is this strange bearer of doom
Who cries, beyond the tomb,

"'U can't touch this!' M. C. Hammer
Exuberantly said.
It is such a shame that Hammer's
Career is clearly dead.

Whoa, oh, oh, oh,
M. C. Hammer, man!"


Monday, July 24, 2006

Camping in the Rain (Crying in the Rain, Howard Greenfield, Carole King)

I wrote this Crying in the Rain parody just before we headed home from a very rainy camping weekend, leaving a suddenly beautiful day behind us.
Camping in the Rain

I never thought I'd be
So glad to see polite society.
I guess I lied saying I could abide
Inconvenience and strain.
We did our camping in the rain.

We arrived to cloudless skies,
But we soon were in for an ugly surprise.
We never know on the day that we go
If the clouds will refrain
Or leave us camping in the rain.

Raindrops fell on our pillows,
On our sleeping bags, our campfire and on me.
Because of nasty weather, we huddled close together
And ate our lunch beneath a canopy.

Our weekend had just begun,
But I could tell it wouldn’t be very fun.
We can’t have a ball if the sky’s gonna fall.
Yeah, I think it’s a pain that
We did our camping in the rain.

The thunderheads were forming,
And soon it started storming.
My glasses were so streaked I couldn’t see.

And then when our trip was done,
We drove away under a bright blazing sun.
Oh, I went to school, but I still feel a fool.
Would somebody explain it?
Why'd we go camping in the rain?

Why’d we go camping in the rain?
Why’d we go camping in the rain?
(I prefer when tents are dry.)
Camping, camping, camping, camping...
Seems like the trip was all in vain.
We did our camping in the rain. 


Crying in the Rain 

The Camper (The Gambler, Don Schlitz)

I was inspired to write the parody of Kenny Rogers' The Gambler while watching my dad try to light a fire with wood that had been rained on for several hours

The Camper

On a warm summer's evenin'
In the middle of nowhere,
I met up with a camper. We were both too tired to sleep.
So we took turns a-starin'
At a flimsy pile of branches
Till hunger overtook us, and he began to speak.

He said, "Son, in my long life
I've ignited lots of tinder,
Built a lot of campfires that have billowed to the skies.
And if you don't mind my sayin',
Well, that's quite a measly cinder.
If you ever want your dinner, then here's what I advise."

I put down my fire starter
'Cause I knew this guy was smarter
And I figured I had better let him have his say.
Well, I sure am glad I did 'cause
That guy knew what a dumb kid was,
And he must've known I still would recall his words today.

"You've got to know when to light it,
Know when to fight it,
Know when the wood is dry,
Know when it's wet.
You've gotta balance paper
With the sticks that you've collected.
I have hiked across this mountain;
So could you, I bet.

Every camper knows
The secret to survival
Is knowin' what you're doin' when the other fella don't.
Don't think you can rely on
Your buddy if you're strugglin'.
Though he may know how to help you, chances are that he won't."

And as he finished speakin',
I noticed somethin' burnin'.
I'm not sure how he did it, but that fire was alight.
That fella, he was clever,
And I was slowly learnin'.
I cooked my pork and beans and I took a giant bite.

"You've got to know when to light it,
Know when to fight it,
Know when the wood is dry,
Know when it's wet.
You've gotta balance paper
With the sticks that you've collected.
I have hiked across this mountain;
So could you, I bet."


Friday, July 21, 2006

A Caribbean Dream (An American Dream, Rodney Crowell)

This Pirates parody is from the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's An American Dream; I suspect that after this I may start running out of Caribbean-sounding music...

A Caribbean Dream

They didn't even offer him a parley.
His crew abandoned him, and he had no say.
I doubt that he predicted a mutiny,
But this old island's not a bad place to be.

Well, he is stranded, but it's all right.
Sandy beaches, drinkin' rum every night.
He's got no ship, so he's got nowhere to go,
But till the rum is gone, that's fine with Sparrow.

That ocean water is so pretty and clear,
And he enjoys the breeze from the palm trees here.
He doesn't know if there are any ships near,
But if he had to, he could stay here all year.

Well, he is stranded, but it's all right.
Sandy beaches, drinkin' rum every night.
He's got no ship, so he's got nowhere to go,
But till the rum is gone, that's fine with Sparrow.

Voila! A Caribbean dream,
Though he can't travel and his teeth are not clean.
And maybe when Sparrow opens his eyes,
He find a rescuer, but till then he's fine.

The waves upon the shoreline make a nice sound
While Sparrow's gulping all those potables down.
He doesn't know if there are any ships near,
But if he had to, he could stay here all year.

Voila! A Caribbean dream,
Though he can't travel and his teeth are not clean.
And maybe when Sparrow opens his eyes,
He find a rescuer, but till then he's fine.

Well, he is stranded, but it's all right.
Sandy beaches, drinkin' rum every night.
He's got no ship, so he's got nowhere to go,
But till the rum is gone, that's fine with Sparrow.


Thursday, July 20, 2006

Hagrid (Gilligan's Isle Theme Song, Sherwood Schwartz / George Wyle)

This is my fourth Harry Potter parody. As I've been spending a lot of time recently trading HP speculations with my friend Beth, I'm not too surprised Rowling's masterpiece is yielding a lot of lyrics. What does surprise me is the fact that it's taken this long to write something focusing on Hagrid, who is my favorite of Rowling's dozens of engaging characters. He's not as hapless as Gilligan, but the two might find they have a couple things in common...

Hagrid

Well, sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a faithful stooge,
The groundskeeper at Hogwarts School
Named Hagrid, who is huge.

Yes, he is a mighty hefty man
Although his hut is small.
He loves the creatures no one else
Finds appealing at all (appealing at all).

His giant hands are big and rough.
He has a massive beard.
He is loyal to young Harry Potter, who
The Dursleys think is weird (the Dursleys think is weird).

No matter what trouble comes his way,
He always has a smile
For Harry and for Ronald too,
And know-it-all Hermione.
He pours them tea
When they come to see him. With glee,
He says, "Please stay a while."

Now this is the tale of our groundskeeper.
He's been there a long, long time,
Though he was sent to Azkaban
For Tom Riddle's crime.

But Dumbledore and Harry too
Both did their very best
To prove his innocence and to
Override that false arrest.

No hardship can get Hagrid down -
Well, except his dreadful fear
That for one of his creatures,
Danger could be extremely near.

Blast-ended skrewts and flobberworms
And dragons full of scales
Warm Hagrid more than anything,
And his love never fails!


Bootstraps Bill (Margaritaville, Jimmy Buffett)

I knew I had at least one more Pirates parody in me, and what's more tropical-sounding than Kokomo? Why, Margaritaville, of course!

Bootstraps Bill

I gotta tell ya,
I was a young fella
When I met your mama, and I was afraid
To take on the bother
Of bein' a father.
Now just look at the mess I have made.

Wishin' that I could say I'm glad to meet ya, Will.
I've been thinkin' of you so long, my son.
But it's a shame that Davy Jones knows your name.
You're a slave; there's nowhere to run.

Well, pirates are ruthless -
And too often toothless -
And I thought you could escape from that life.
But Captain Jack found you,
And then he was bound to
Betray you and cause me even more strife.

Wishin' that I could say I'm glad to meet ya, Will.
I've been thinkin' of you so long, my son.
But it's a shame that Davy Jones knows your name.
You're a slave; there's nowhere to run.

If I could just save you
From this liquid grave, you
Know I would, but it seems you must stay.
You are nowhere near dry land,
So come and take my hand.
Perhaps we could bond just a bit anyway.

Wishin' that I could say I'm glad to meet ya, Will.
I've been thinkin' of you so long, my son.
But it's a shame that Davy Jones knows your name.
You're a slave; there's nowhere to run.
Yes, it's a shame that Davy Jones knows your name.
You're a slave; there's nowhere to run.



The Progress of the City of New Orleans (The City of New Orleans, Steve Goodman)

I was surfing the web yesterday looking for a midi of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and one of the pages I searched had The City of New Orleans playing on it. At once, I thought, "I should try that one," and my dad's suggestion moments later that I do just that gave me added motivation. Last fall, while working at the calendar kiosk in the mall, I heard this song almost every day. It was my third season working there, and the frequency of that song was increased considerably after Hurricane Katrina hit. Though it isn't about New Orleans at all, the wistful tone really affected me, and it was one of my favorite songs for several months. Like so many other people, I was riveted to the ongoing hurricane coverage, and for me the source was Good Morning America. They haven't failed me yet...

The Progress of the City of New Orleans

Last year was a bad one for New Orleans,
Buffeted by the wind and driving rain.
Broken levees, mass evacuations...
All because of one terrible hurricane.
And we saw the pictures on TV,
The unrelenting tragedy,
Refugees stuck in the Astrodome.
We opened our wallets and
Our hearts, and throughout the land,
We felt just a bit more gratitude for our homes.

Good Morning America, I watch ya
When the mornin' sky is painted by the sun.
You've shown the progress of the city of New Orleans,
And I know that you'll be there when the job is done.

Every day I would listen to your coverage:
Breaking news from Charlie and Diane,
Forecasts from persistent and tempest-tossed Tony
Holding down his hood next to his van.
And the heart-felt hometown stories
Robin told to us each day
Made the whole disaster seem so much more real.
Even though it happened far
Away, when I saw floating cars
And abandoned homes, I couldn't help but feel.

Good Morning America, I watch ya
When the mornin' sky is painted by the sun.
You've shown the progress of the city of New Orleans,
And I know that you'll be there when the job is done.

We have watched the city of New Orleans
Make a slow but sure recovery
Thanks to your broadcasts every mornin'.
Though it struggled, it's retained its diverse identity.
And yes, we know it may take years
And another flood of tears
Till New Orleans truly thrives again,
But your show inspires us to hope,
To make a difference and to cope,
So we will keep our eyes trained on you till then.

Good Morning America, I watch ya
When the mornin' sky is painted by the sun.
You've shown the progress of the city of New Orleans,
And I know that you'll be there when the job is done.


I'll Turn Invisible (Invisible, Chris Braide / Andreas Carlsson / Desmond Child)

This one was too perfect to pass up. Besides being about invisibility, it's about stalking somebody, which Harry Potter sure does a lot of. Even some of Clay Aiken's biggest fans find this song a bit creepy. Malfoy definitely brings out the most poisonous aspects of Harry's personality...

I'll Turn Invisible

What is he doing tonight?
I'm glad I can be like a fly on his wall.
Is he working alone?
What are his schemes?
Why can't I get him out of my life?
What will it take to make them see that I am right?

Well, I'll turn invisible,
And I will stalk Malfoy in the gloom.
Though I'm not invincible,
I'll follow him tonight.
My cloak is unshakable,
So I'll back my theory up with facts.
I will catch him in the act
When I turn invisible.
Yes, I'm on the attack.

I saw his face in a crowd.
I wanted to maim
Him without a sound.
It would be a big step
If I could just make
An effort to get into his mind
Before he joins with Snape and ruins my whole life.

Well, I'll turn invisible,
And I will stalk Malfoy in the gloom.
Though I'm not invincible,
I'll follow him tonight.
My cloak is unshakable,
So I'll back my theory up with facts.
I will catch him in the act
When I turn invisible.
Yes, I'm on the attack.

I'll reach out.
He won't even see me.
He will think he's dreaming
If by chance he hears me.
I will start collecting clues
Like a shadow passing through.

Well, I'll turn invisible,
And I will stalk Malfoy in the gloom.
Though I'm not invincible,
I'll follow him tonight.
My cloak is unshakable,
So I'll back my theory up with facts.
I will catch him in the act
When I turn invisible.
Yes, I'm on the attack.


Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Bad, Bad Dr. House (Bad Bad Leroy Brown, Jim Croce)

A few days ago, my friend called me excitedly to tell me that in response to a fan letter she had written, she received an autographed cast photo from House, which is one of our favorite shows to watch together. "You have to write a letter too!" she urged me. I agreed, but given my current obsession, I thought I'd try my hand at a parody first. I think Jim Croce might have gotten a kick out of this show...

Bad, Bad Dr. House

In a hospital in Princeton
Works a man named Gregory.
And if you go down there, you'd better just beware
Of him. He is House, M.D.

Well, his ethics are appalling,
And he's sadly short on class.
Those big words he uses help him to abuse
His patients. Dr. House is crass.

And he's bad, bad Dr. House,
Far too caustic to be a spouse.
Meaner than ol' Simon Cowell.
His remarks are really foul.

He's a diagnostic wizard,
And he loves to save a life.
But his ego's poison, and his sarcasm's annoying
And will cut you like a knife.

He's got a shiny motorcycle
And astonishing blue eyes.
Kind-hearted Wilson's his buddy, and the anal Cuddy
Is the boss he's terrorized.

And he's bad, bad Dr. House,
Far too caustic to be a spouse.
Meaner than ol' Simon Cowell.
His remarks are really foul.

He works with Chase and Foreman
And, just to add some spice,
Ambitious Cameron, who is attracted to him
Though he isn't very nice.

Well, his ex-girlfriend came calling,
And some trouble soon began.
He was forced to save her husband, and he raved,
For Dr. House is a jealous man.

And he's bad, bad Dr. House,
Far too caustic to be a spouse.
Meaner than ol' Simon Cowell.
His remarks are really foul.

People seem to want to change him,
To salve the scars from ages past.
House, however, will be cruel forever;
If he weren't, he'd get boring fast.

And he's bad, bad Dr. House,
Far too caustic to be a spouse.
Meaner than ol' Simon Cowell.
His remarks are really foul.


Tuesday, July 18, 2006

My Favorite Cheese (My Favorite Things, Richard Rodgers / Oscar Hammerstein)

Another song attempting to break the poets' curious silence on the subject of cheese, this time to the tune of My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music.

My Favorite Cheese

Feta and Cheddar, Romano, Ricotta.
I am so hungry, I want a whole lotta
Colby or Swiss. Maybe it's a disease,
But I can't decide on my favorite cheese.

Jack, Asiago and warm Mozzarella.
If it rained cheese, I'd not take an umbrella.
I love to catch that fair scent on the breeze.
I can't decide on my favorite cheese.

Blue cheese and cream cheese and cheese just for snackin'.
That's what I want when my hunger's attackin'.
If I'm around, won't you give me some, please?
I can't decide on my favorite cheese.

I love dairy! "Give me more, please"
Is what I have said.
Present me with 'most any manner of cheese
And then I will be well fed.


I Love Cheese (I Love Trash, Joe Raposo)

A song in response to the distressing quote "The poets have been curiously silent on the subject of cheese," to the tune of Oscar the Grouch's I Love Trash.

I Love Cheese

Well, Camembert carries a certain appeal,
And Gouda is good to digest with a meal.
Just what do those holes in the Swiss cheese reveal?
I love it because it's cheese!

Oh, I love cheese.
Anything gorgeously gloppy and oozy.
'Long as it's cheese, I don't need to be choosy.
Oh, I love cheese!

Tortillas are better with Cheddar, I say,
And Muenster's worth munching throughout the whole day.
Oh, I would be blue if you threw Blue away.
I love it because it's cheese!

Oh, I love cheese.
Anything melty and artery-clogging.
'Long as it's cheese, that is what I'll be hogging.
Oh, I love cheese!

I'd never say no to a nice Provolone,
And Parmesan's perfect on pizzas. I'm known
To eat a whole bag of Cojack on my own.
I love it because it's cheese!

Oh, I love cheese.
Anything classified clearly as dairy.
Life without cheese would be sad and just scary.
Oh, I love, I love, I love cheese!

Snow in July (Woyaya, Sol Amarfio / Osibisa)

While I'm stuck on Angel Clare, here's a Woyaya parody. It's wishful thinking; it has just been so abominably hot here lately. I want to go crick-walking, and I want to get a pool. But I think a freak snowstorm might solve all of my problems...

Snow in July

It is snowing.
Heaven knows why it is snowing.
It is July.

But we don't care.
I'll tell you why we do not care:
Now we won't fry.

It's been so hot, you know,
That we don't mind some snow on the ground.
No, we don't care.
You must see why we do not care.
Bring on the snow!

It is snowing.
Heaven knows why it is snowing.
It is July.



Harry Was An Only Child (Mary Was An Only Child, Albert Hammond / Mike Hazlewood / Jorge Milchberg)

Another Harry Potter song, this one to the tune of Art Garfunkel's Mary Was An Only Child.

Harry Was an Only Child

Harry was an only child.
Nobody held him; nobody smiled.
He grew up with the Dursleys, wretched and poor,
But was destined to win the great wizarding war.

Harry had no friends at all
Till he met Ron and Hermione that fall
When he joined Hogwarts. What was in store
For the one who would win the great wizarding war?

We don't know how the story ends.
Will he find the strength to rescue his friends?
How much must he sacrifice, and how long before
Harry Potter will win the great wizarding war?



I'm Gonna Love Pooh Forever (Forever and Ever Amen, Randy Travis)

When my brother came home tonight, he was singing one of my favorite country songs, Forever and Ever, Amen. I found this rather curious, as he generally despises country music, though I think he's always had a soft spot for that particular tune. I certainly do, at any rate, and his second time through the chorus I decided I needed to hi-jack it for my favorite Disnified bear...

I'm Gonna Love Pooh Forever

You may think that Pooh Bear is foolish,
A bear of a low pedigree.
You may ask me why when discovering I
Paint him on my wall and watch him on my TV.
You may ask why I am willing
To love one who seems so unwise.
Well, since I was five, this love has survived;
It certainly isn't something I would disguise.

Believe me, I'm gonna love Pooh forever,
Forever and ever amen.
As long as that bear finds his hunny pot is empty
And Christopher Robin fills it up for him again,
I would wander the forests of England
For a glimpse of my stuffed-with-fluff friend.
I'll love Pooh forever, forever and ever,
Forever and ever amen.

They say Pooh has a round sort of body,
Though he does exercises each day.
I tell ya, I don't care, he's such a lovable bear
If he were a blimp, well, I'd love him anyway.
They say Pooh's addled wits are contagious.
He will make ya forget things you knew.
Well, it's easy to see that it's happenin' to me.
I've already forgotten every teddy but Pooh.

Believe me, I'm gonna love Pooh forever,
Forever and ever amen.
As long as that bear finds his hunny pot is empty
And Christopher Robin fills it up for him again,
I would wander the forests of England,
Searching for him until the day's end.
I'll love Pooh forever, forever and ever,
Forever and ever amen.


Monday, July 17, 2006

The Ballad of Harry Potter (Suicide Is Painless, Johnny Mandel / Mike Altman)

I've been meaning to versify about everybody's favorite boy wizard for quite some time, so here is my first Harry Potter parody, set to Suicide is Painless, which happens to be the theme song of my favorite sit-com, M*A*S*H. This song fits in somewhere between the end of the second book and the beginning of the third. More will follow, I'm sure...

The Ballad of Harry Potter

Well, when he was a youngster, Harry's
Room was underneath the stairs.
His uncle Vernon stashed him there,
Which Harry thought was quite unfair.

Now Harry Potter's famous.
His nemesis is nameless.
With Ronald and Hermione he'll get by.

When giant-hearted Hagrid came
And called the Potter boy by name,
Informing Harry of his fame,
His life would never be the same.

Now Harry Potter's famous.
His nemesis is nameless.
With Ronald and Hermione he'll get by.

He boarded the Hogwarts Express
And soon heard Dumbledore's address.
No longer plagued by loneliness,
He rescued Neville from distress.

Now Harry Potter's famous.
His nemesis is nameless.
With Ronald and Hermione he'll get by.

When stealthiness was called for, he
Embraced invisibility,
But Quidditch fans could clearly see
His skill as he was flying free.

Now Harry Potter's famous.
His nemesis is nameless.
With Ronald and Hermione he'll get by.

His taped-up glasses, lightning scar
And escapades in flying cars
Have helped him to become a star,
But he's not vain - at least so far.

Now Harry Potter's famous.
His nemesis is nameless.
With Ronald and Hermione he'll get by.

His pre-teen life's been torn apart
By Snape and Quirrell and Lockhart
And others skilled in the Dark Arts.
His greatest battle soon will start.

Now Harry Potter's famous.
His nemesis is nameless.
With Ronald and Hermione he'll get by.


Saturday, July 15, 2006

Samwise (Bright Eyes, Mike Batt)

I knew I'd have to rhapsodize about Sam Gamgee sooner or later, and what better way to do it than with Bright Eyes, one of the most beautiful songs I know? 

Samwise

Were you this kind from birth,
Furry-footed young squire
Following your master through Middle-earth?
Do you know your worth?
Though you're most at home in a garden,
You have proven that you
Are brave enough to serve the hobbit who
Was destined from birth
To save Middle-earth.

Samwise, child of the Shire.
Samwise, integral to the tale.
How could you know
Without you, Frodo's
Quest would be doomed to fail?
Samwise...

Haunted by Mordor's shadow,
Calmed by Earendil's light,
Wandering, praying to be unseen,
As if in a dream,
Do you miss wind in the trees
And green grass and fresh air?
Is Rose Cotton wondering, "Where'd he go?"
Will you meet your end
Protecting your friend?

Samwise, child of the Shire.
Samwise, integral to the tale.
How could you know
Without you, Frodo's
Quest would be doomed to fail?
Samwise...


A Friend Until the End (Blowin' in the Wind, Bob Dylan)

Having recently immersed myself in Arnold Lobel's gentle, funny Frog and Toad stories, I thought a little tribute to the long-suffering Frog was in order. Here it is, to the tune of Blowin' in the Wind.

A Friend Until the End

How much of Toad's foolishness can Frog take
Before he's had it with him?
Yes, and how many dumb inquiries must Toad make
Before Frog knows that he's dim?
Yes, and will they eventually stop being friends?
I'd say the chances are slim.
For Frog is a friend who's loyal to the end.
Yes, Frog is a friend until the end.

How many times will Frog drag Toad from bed
Before he just lets him sleep?
Yes, and how many times will he offer aid
When Toad gets himself in too deep?
Frog made a promise to stand by his friend,
And that is a vow he will keep.
For Frog is a friend who's loyal to the end.
Yes, Frog is a friend until the end.

How did Toad happen to stumble upon
A frog so faithful and true?
If unexpectedly Frog was gone,
I do not know what Toad would do.
I think that all of us could benefit
From such a great buddy, don't you?
For Frog is a friend who's loyal to the end.
Yes, Frog is a friend until the end.


Friday, July 14, 2006

The Life of a Pirate (Kokomo, John Phillips / Scott McKenzie / Mike Love / Terry Melcher)

In honor of the phenomenally popular Pirates of the Caribbean - of which I am a big fan - I wrote a parody of the Beach Boys' Kokomo, which is one of my favorite summery songs. Enjoy!

The Life of a Pirate

The life of a pirate, you know you desire it.
A free-wheeling bandit. You have got to hand it
To Captain Jack Sparrow, never straight and narrow,
A pirate.

The Caribbean Sea
Has an archipelago
Where pirates tend to go
To look for gold, but they find
Treasures with a curse
And situations that just get worse.
All the sudden they're stuck
Staring into an aquatic hearse.
Avast, me hearties, yo ho!

The life of a pirate, you know you desire it.
Be a free-wheeling bandit. You have got to hand it
To Captain Jack Sparrow; he's the king of narrow
And intense escapes.
I don't know how he gets into such scrapes
While William Turner gapes...
Avast, me hearties, yo ho!

Johnny Depp.
Is he a hottie? Yep!

They will hoist the sail,
Swab the deck and never fail
To excite and delight
The movie-goers with their tale.
On the choppy waves,
They'll make amazing saves.
Under Jack Sparrow's command,
Their misadventures will all be grand.
Avast, me hearties, yo ho!

The life of a pirate, you know you desire it.
Be a free-wheeling bandit. You have got to hand it
To Captain Jack Sparrow; he's the king of narrow
And intense escapes.
I don't know how he gets into such scrapes
While William Turner gapes...
Avast, me hearties, yo ho!

Orli Bloom.
He'd make the perfect groom.

Everybody knows
Of that archipelago,
So if you wanna go and sail in search of some gold,
Avast, me hearties, yo ho!

The life of a pirate, you know you desire it.
Be a free-wheeling bandit. You have got to hand it
To Captain Jack Sparrow; he's the king of narrow
And intense escapes.
I don't know how he gets into such scrapes
While William Turner gapes...
Avast, me hearties, yo ho!


The Perfect Confection (The Rainbow Connection, Paul Williams / Kenneth Ascher)

Here's a parody of The Rainbow Connection from the perspective of Willy Wonka.

The Perfect Confection

Why are there so many eaters of candy,
Of chocolate, jawbreakers and gum?
Candy is tasty but kind of a waste;
See, your dentist would say that it's dumb.
So I've been told many times by my father,
But he's not much fun, now is he?
Someday we'll find it, the perfect confection,
Those round Oompa-Loompas and me.

Who said that rotten teeth are to be avoided?
They make your mouth full of gold.
I say, the stickier and harder the candy,
The more likely it gets sold.
Kids don't mind holes in bicuspids and molars,
And I am inclined to agree.
Someday we'll find it, the perfect confection,
Those round Oompa-Loompas and me.

Keeping a kid from his sweets
Is nasty, cold-hearted and tragic...

Have you been forced to eat a gaggy green veggie?
I feel so sorry for you.
Have they insisted that candy is harmful?
I do not think that could be true.
I've eaten too many sweets to believe it;
A chocolatier's what I must be.
Someday we'll find it, the perfect confection,
Those round Oompa-Loompas and me.


Rasputin (Cecilia, Paul Simon)

A parody of Simon and Garfunkel's Cecilia from the perspective of Bartok, Rasputin's obligatory animal sidekick in the Don Bluth movie Anastasia.

Rasputin

Master, you're making a mess,
I'm getting depressed looking at you.
Oh, Rasputin, you're falling apart,
Oh when did you start to decay?

Master, you're making a mess,
I'm getting depressed looking at you.
Oh, Rasputin, you're falling apart,
Oh when did you start to decay, to decay?

Wreaking havoc on Romanovs with Rasputin,
My eccentric boss (wreaking hav-
oc all day)
.
We had almost wrecked the place;
When I caught up with him, he was losing his face.

Master, you're making a mess,
I'm getting depressed looking at you.
Oh, Rasputin, you're falling apart,
Oh when did you start to decay, to decay?

Putrefaction, it's making me sick.
My leader's incredibly icky.
Putrefaction, it's making me sick.
My leader's incredibly icky...


The Wreck of a Bald Anti-Hero (The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, Gordon Lightfoot)

Another Smallville song dealing with the fascinating Lex Luthor, to the tune of Gordon Lightfoot's The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The Wreck of a Bald Anti-Hero

The legend lives on from Metropolis on down
To the little old town they call Smallville.
Lex Luthor, it's told, was worth mountains of gold,
But he hungered for truth somethin' awful.

With a gorgeous castle and dozens of acres of land,
You would reckon that Lex would be cozy.
But he'd trade his wealth for a little more stealth,
For above all else, that guy is nosy.

He was in the dark about his good buddy Clark,
But he slowly became more suspicious.
Each time Clark acted strange, their relationship changed
Until Lex's intentions grew vicious.

Concluding their friendship, he had to pretend
That their brotherhood meant very little.
He wanted to fight, to square off against
The enigma wrapped up in a riddle.

Green Kryptonite carried a palpable threat
To the man called "super" by masses.
As soon as Lex knew, he concocted a few
Nasty plans while he wooed luscious lasses.

His dad was distant and his mother was missed,
For she died when he was a teenager.
He suffered abuse, but that's no excuse
To become an unruly rampager.

When slumber time came, the old dreams would begin,
Bringing with them strange visions and phantoms.
His father would hover - in loathing, not love;
His revulsion made Lex fear the sandman.

"I'm captain," he said, as he shivered in his bed,
"Of my destiny. Nothing to fear."
Oh, he should have abandoned his fanatical plans,
That poor wreck of a bald anti-hero.

Does anyone know where man's decency goes
When the years turn a friend to a rival?
How much must he pay at the end of the day
For his desperate quest for survival?

It might've been fate or it might've been choice -
It might've been both things together -
That caused him to turn. Is there still time yet to learn?
Is he doomed to be evil forever?

Superman soars; his purpose is clear
In the midst of his unending zoomin'.
His alien heart has been from the start
Just as wholesome as though he were human.

And on the Kent farm lives a country marm
Whose soul is so perfectly saintly,
She can still see some good in Lex where no one else could,
Be it ever so terribly faintly.

In the musty old barn where Clark used to reside
With the folks he called father and mother,
One long-gone day, he heard Lex earnestly say,
"Clark, you're better than any blood brother."

The legend lives on from Metropolis on down
To the little old town they call Smallville.
Lex Luthor, it is told, had a heart made of gold,
But his hunger for truth made him awful...


Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Rosenbaum (Kodachrome, Paul Simon)

A second birthday tribute to Michael Rosenbaum on his 34th birthday.


Rosenbaum

When I think back on all the channels I have surfed through,
It's a wonder I can think at all.
Still, my lack of classy TV hasn't hurt me none
Just as long as Smallville's back this fall.

Rosenbaum,
His head is so nice and shiny,
His acting skills are divine,
He makes us think Lex just might turn out okay, oh yeah.
I've got a television,
I love to watch an episode,
So Warner, don't take Mike Rosenbaum away.

If you took all the guys who ever played a villain
And brought them all together for one night,
I know that Mike's performance would be most fulfillin'.
Enemies are worse when black and white.

Rosenbaum,
His head is so nice and shiny,
His acting skills are divine,
He makes us think Lex just might turn out okay, oh yeah.
I've got a television,
I love to watch an episode,
So Warner, don't take Mike Rosenbaum away.


Mr. Rosenbaum (Mrs. Robinson, Paul Simon)

A little ditty I wrote in honor of Michael Rosenbaum's 34th birthday.

Mr. Rosenbaum
 

And here's to you, Mr. Rosenbaum.
Your fans love you more than you may know, whoa whoa whoa!
God bless you please, Mr. Rosenbaum.
Lex will be redeemed by you someday, hey hey hey, hey hey, hey!

I'd like to know a little bit about you for my files.
I'd like to play Miss Sullivan herself.
Do you have a Luthor-like life, full of doubt and lies?
Somehow I suspect you have a happy home.

And here's to you, Mr. Rosenbaum.
Your fans love you more than you may know, whoa whoa whoa!
God bless you please, Mr. Rosenbaum.
Lex will be redeemed by you someday, hey hey hey, hey hey, hey!

Hope you have a birthday that is stunning, Mr. Rose.
If I could, I'd smuggle you some cupcakes.
Blow your candles out; you'll get your wish if life is fair.
You have granted them for so many sick kids.

Koo-koo-ka-choo, Mr. Rosenbaum.
Your fans love you more than you may know, whoa whoa whoa!
God bless you please, Mr. Rosenbaum.
Lex will be redeemed by you someday, hey hey hey, hey hey, hey!

Standing in a stadium on Sunday afternoon,
Looking mighty manly in those skates,
Laugh about it, shout about it,
How could you refuse?
When your heart is in it, you can't lose.

If you should go, Michael Rosenbaum,
The show would owe its swift demise to you, woo woo woo!
What's that you say, Mr. Rosenbaum?
You have no intent to go away? Hey hey hey, hey hey hey...


Mrs. Robinson