Gandalf the White (The Rake's Song, Colin Meloy)

I have Lord of the Rings on the brain right now.  Here's a reflection from Gandalf - the slightly less responsible movie version, who's into drinking in libraries and barging in on hobbits in the middle of the night - addressing Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas to the tune of the Decemberists' The Rake's Song.

Gandalf the White

As I researched objects of power,
I blew rings and guzzled tankards of beer.
Then an Elven matron caught me,
And she chided, “Sir, you can’t smoke in here,
All right?  Books might ignite!”

Though I was irked, I had what I needed:
Confirmation we were facing the worst.
So much to do, a war to prepare for...
But I had to see Frodo off first.
I brought his plight to light
And gave him quite a fright.

“Frodo,” I told him, “Bilbo left a golden trinket.
I can’t rest until it’s finally gone.
Riders from Mordor could come to your door,
So you and Samwise must leave with the dawn.
Your flight starts at first light.”

Then when he left, I went to the wizard
Who I could count on to help with my quest.
Though I suspected that my efforts would be futile,
I had hope when I consulted the best -
The White - he’d set things right.
But White was not too bright.

Saruman locked me on the top of a tower.
Took an eagle to escape from his wrath.
Came back to you, and I led you but tumbled
Toward the Balrog as you ran up the path.
Our fight went on all night.

Then after I won, I left but returned here.
Seems the world was not finished with me.
I know that you think I don’t look like Gandalf;
That’s because the Grey is gone, you see.
So cite delight, not fright.
I’m called Gandalf the White!

Moria (Today, Randy Sparks)

Gimli sings the praises of Balin and Moria to Legolas to the tune of John Denver's Today.

Moria

Today, in the kingdom that they call a mine,
We’ll find sanctuary and lavishly dine.
The tests of tomorrow are ages away;
Balin the valiant will host us in style today.

Legolas, let me assure you that no one
In all of your halls where the Elven lords sing
Can rival the heart of that cousin of Gloin.
Truly he’s the noblest of kings.

Today, in the kingdom that they call a mine,
We’ll rest - once the wizard can work out this sign.
The tests of tomorrow are ages away;
Balin the valiant will host us in style today.

His deeds are recounted in old Bilbo’s story,
Well-known to the hobbit who’s bearing the Ring.
Come, let us meander through Moria’s glory;
Beauty is not just an Elf thing.

Today, in the kingdom that they call a mine,
We’ll marvel at mithril so fluid and fine.
The tests of tomorrow are ages away;
Balin the valiant will host us in style today.

Today, in the kingdom that they call a mine,
We’ll find sanctuary and lavishly dine.
The tests of tomorrow are ages away;
Balin the valiant will host us in style today.

Triple Dog Dare (Will You Be There, Michael Jackson)

I wrote this in response to a call on Amiright for Michael Jackson parodies.  Will You Be There is probably my favorite of his songs, so I wanted to do something with it, and for some reason, the famous flagpole scene from A Christmas Story popped into my mind.  (Flick, who is verbally incapacitated throughout most of the song, is thinking his lines, while Schwartz and Ralphie and their teacher are speaking out loud.)

Triple Dog Dare

Schwartz: Dare you.

I double dare you.

Double dog dare you.

Triple dog dare!

Flick: Schoolyard

In the middle of winter.

My buddy is goading me.

Pretty poor friend!

Lousy Schwartz.

What game is he playing?

He’s pointing and saying,

“Triple dog dare!”

Schwartz: Dare you.

I double dare you.

(Flick: Why?)

Schwartz: Double dog dare you.

(Flick: Shut up!)

Schwartz: Triple dog dare!

(Flick: That’s so dumb!)

Schwartz: Dare you.

I double dare you.

Double dog dare you.

(Flick: So dumb, Schwartz!)

Schwartz: Triple dog dare!

Flick: Flagpole,

Imposing and icy.

My chances are dicey.

The guys are behind me.

They’re all staring.

They’ve gathered to mock me.

And me, I can’t talk because I took the dare,

And boy, was that stupid!

  

Schwartz: Dare you.

I double dare you.

(Flick: What?)

Schwartz: Double dog dare you.

Triple dog dare!

(Flick: That’s so dumb!)

Schwartz: Dare you.

I double dare you.

(Flick: Ugh...)

Schwartz: Double dog dare you.

Triple dog dare!

Flick: Help, ’cause I’ve got a flagpole on me!

Lost all my verbal control, you see.

Can’t say that it was my goal to be

Freezing cold and stuck.

I’m livid and unlucky!

Ralphie: Uh-oh.

(Flick: Ralphie!)

Ralphie: Looks like it’s frozen.

(Flick: Help me!)

Ralphie: School doors are closin’.

(Flick: Please!)

Ralphie: Look, Flick, I care.

(Flick: Weird way to show it!)

Ralphie: But... well...

(Flick: Well what?)

Ralphie: You hear the school bell.

(Flick: Yeah, who cares?)

Ralphie: Flick, if you can’t tell,

(Flick: Please!)

Ralphie: I’m feeling stressed.

(Flick: Gee, how do I feel?)

Schwartz: Ralphie...

(Flick: Hey, Schwartz...)

Schwartz: Look at ‘im flailing.

(Flick: You watch out!)

Schwartz: Hear how he’s wailing.

(Flick: Yeah...)

Schwartz: Ralphie, I’m scared.

(Flick: I’m gonna getcha!)

Flick: Save me!

(Schwartz: Sorry!)

Flick: I behaved bravely!

(Schwartz: Gotta run, gotta run...)

Flick: Why did you say to me,

“Triple dog dare?”

(Schwartz: Spare me your glare.)

Flick: Tricked me.

(Schwartz: See ya, Flick!)

Flick: Tricked me so coldly.

Nobody told me

(Ralphie: Bye!)

Flick: Life’s so unfair.

(Schwartz: Hang in there!)

Flick: Pull me.

(Schwartz: So...)

Flick: Try to unstick me.

(Schwartz: Any chance he’ll get loose?)

Flick: Get me off quickly!

(Ralphie: From the flagpole?  No chance.)

Flick: Boy, what a pair...

(Schwartz: What a dumb dare...)

Flick: Free me!

(Miss Shields: Class...)

Flick: Somebody, see me!

(Miss Shields: Wait, he’s where?  He’s out there?  How did that happen?)

Flick: Wanna feel steamy!

(Miss Shields: What a mess!)

Flick: Boy, I’m depressed...

(Miss Shields: Coming, Flick!)

Vanity (Danny Boy, Traditional)

My dad asked me to write this to go along with a sermon he was giving on Ecclesiastes.  I think that book's quite a downer, but I tossed in a bit of Paul to perk things up a bit...


Vanity

We must accept the sorrows of humanity
And understand its joys will all be brief.
The years will turn our labors into vanity,
For only God is fit to conquer grief.

And so we toil, but all success is hollow.
Why even try to struggle and to learn?
Though we may triumph, emptiness will follow
As sure as green gives way to gold as seasons turn.

The earth remains though many generations
Have swiftly fled like rivers to the sea.
The sun will set on cities and on nations
Until they fully fade from memory.

Throughout our lives, in tragic times or merry,
We set our sights on matters far above,
For what we do is only temporary.
Yes, all is vanity but faith and hope and love.

The Ranger (Angel, Sarah McLachlan)

I've had Lord of the Rings on my mind lately, so here's a song addressing Frodo Baggins on the subject of the mysterious Strider around the time that he first meets him, to the tune of Sarah McLachlan's Angel.  This one goes out to my good buddy Crissy!

The Ranger

Spent half the night waiting for a hint or glance
Of the guy they call Gandalf the Grey. 
Just count on a wizard!  When the going gets tough,
Then those sorcerous sorts stay away.
You’re itching for action and, driven by caprice,
Warble a lively refrain.
But then you vanish, and a mystery man asks
To aid you in your plight.

You’re alarmed by the Ranger
Who has met you here,
For he’s dark, hardly well-groomed
And insulting you with his sneer.
But he knows of your mission
And the violence that you flee.
You won’t be harmed by the Ranger;
You will find he is sincere.

So unsure of Strider, but very soon you’ll learn
To trust that he’s watching your back.
This gold does not glitter.  While he wanders, he’s wise
To the ways of the riders in black.
You‘re such an innocent, you’ve got to have a guide,
So stick with him when you leave.
Though he’s a stranger, he will shield you from danger
And foil your enemies.

You’re alarmed by the Ranger
Who has met you here,
For he’s dark, hardly well-groomed
And insulting you with his sneer.
But he knows of your mission
And the violence that you flee.
You won’t be harmed by the Ranger;
You will find he is sincere.

Don't be alarmed by the Ranger;
You will find he is sincere.

Uncle Owen (Oklahoma!, Richard Rodgers / Oscar Hammerstein)

Here's a little ditty from Luke Skywalker's perspective on the day before he meets Obi-Wan Kenobi, to the tune of the title song from Oklahoma!

Uncle Owen
I’m almost an adult.  I’ve earned the right to whine.
Seems all I do is sit around and wait.
Just a little latitude would suit me fine;
He confines me to a place I hate.
Place I hate.  Hope it’s not too late.

Gotta show the fellas I’m no shrinking violet.
Gotta get my license, be a fighter pilot.
Gonna leave this planet with its dreary gloom.
Lookin’ for space and freedom to zoom!
Gonna hang onto this new hope.
How can I ditch this cranky old dope?

Uncle Owen
Is a podunk and provincial pain.
I’ll go clean the droids,
But I’m annoyed
‘Cause I’ve got converters on the brain.

Uncle Owen!
He’s a grumpy, domineering guy,
And it’s hardly grand
To work his land
When my heart is set upon the sky.

Tatooine is nothing but bland,
Just a rock full of womp rats and sand.

So when I claim,
“Blech!  I hate this farming game,”
I’m also saying,
“You cramp my style, Uncle Owen.
Uncle Owen, you’re lame!”

Uncle Owen!
Can’t believe he ever was a teen.  (Uncle Owen!)
Now he always bores
And doles out chores
‘Cause he’s dull and dusty, and he’s mean!

Uncle Owen
Only thinks of mouths he has to feed,
And unlike Aunt Beru,
He has no clue
That adventure’s what I really need.

This isn’t the life I have planned.
Oh, no!  Any day now, I’m taking a stand.
Gotta fly, gotta fly, gotta fly,
Gotta fly, gotta fly, gotta fly...

So when I claim,
“Blech!  I hate this farming game,”
I’m also saying,
“You cramp my style, Uncle Owen.
Uncle Owen, you are lame!”

Uncle Owen, Uncle Owen, Uncle Owen, Uncle Owen...

Tatooine is nothing but bland,
Just a rock full of womp rats and sand.

And when I claim,
“Blech!  I hate this farming game,”
I’m also saying,
“You cramp my style, Uncle Owen.
Uncle Owen,
You’re lame!  I’m ticked, and you’re to blame!”
Uncle Owen!
Blech!

Pesky Ramona (Lady Madonna, John Lennon / Paul McCartney)

One of my favorite characters growing up was Ramona Quimby, the free-spirited girl who is the subject of several Beverly Cleary books.  Now that she's about to hit the big screen, here's a song about Ramona, based on Ramona the Brave, to the tune of the Beatles' Lady Madonna.

Pesky Ramona

Pesky Ramona, making Susan howl.
What did she expect when she aped your owl?
Crushing her creature...  It was only fair.
Stupid stuffy Sue and her boingy hair!

Thought you’d like a room apart from Beezus.
Figured independence would be fun.
Now when night arrives, your blood just freezes.
Bring on the sun!

Pesky Ramona, whiskers on your Qs.
Teacher says to skip ‘em but you refuse.

Six is no fun!
Pesky Ramona, swearing in your rage.
“Guts!” sounds simply ghoulish to a girl your age.

Fighting off the mongrel who’s attacking.
You will lose a shoe before you’re done.
Never mind the footwear that you’re lacking;
Run, ‘Mona, run!

Pesky Ramona, who’d’ve ever guessed
Life could be so tough for a pint-sized pest?

Winnie Has a Hunny Pot (Papa Was a Rollin' Stone, Norman Whitfield / Barrett Strong)

After I posted my Eeyore song to the tune of My Girl on Amiright.com, Dan Creeden suggested I try Winnie Has a Hunny Pot to the tune of Papa Was a Rollin' Stone. So I did!

Winnie Has a Hunny Pot

Throughout the whole Hundred Acres,
There are both givers and takers, yes there are.
Well, maybe this song can provide a guide, yeah.
Your pocketbook will not get bigger
If you’ve decided to hang out with Tigger.
Tigger’s gonna team up with Roo to leech off of you.

If Pooh has hunny there, he’ll share some.
Winnie has a hunny pot.
Sometimes it’s filled up, and sometimes it’s not.
His tummy’s wide; Pooh eats hunny quite a lot.
Yeah, Winnie has a hunny pot.
Sometimes it‘s filled up, and sometimes it’s not.
His tummy’s wide; Pooh eats hunny quite a lot.

Well, well...

Now, Rabbit likes to lock up his tools
To keep those forest-dwelling fools from his stuff.
And Rabbit once let Winnie have a small smack’rel of hunny,
But it seems a small smack’rel just wasn’t enough.
A sticky plight.
Now the bear’s never welcome when it comes time for breakfast.
Rabbit has been convinced such kindness is reckless.
Bunny wised up; his hunny’s out of sight in his home.

But go ask the bear. He’ll share.
Winnie has a hunny pot.
Sometimes it‘s filled up, and sometimes it’s not.
His tummy’s wide; Pooh eats hunny quite a lot.
Yes, fortunately, Winnie has a hunny pot.
Sometimes it‘s filled up, and sometimes it’s not.
His tummy’s wide; Pooh eats hunny quite a lot.

Now, now, now...

Now Piglet’s is known in the woodland for presenting balloons.
Owl distributes stories in the afternoons;
Feathered fellow does not realize folks roll their eyes.
Well Eeyore, that old donkey sure does a lot of grousing
But once helped the bird to secure decent housing.
It belonged to somebody else, but hey, I won’t tell.

Pooh Bear, he’s always such a generous guy to his friends.
Winnie has a hunny pot. He keeps it well.
Sometimes it‘s filled up, and sometimes it’s not.
His tummy’s wide; Pooh eats hunny quite a lot.
Winnie has a hunny pot.
Sometimes it‘s filled up, and sometimes it’s not.
His tummy’s wide; Pooh eats hunny quite a lot.
I said that Winnie has a hunny pot.
Well, sometimes it’s full, and sometimes it’s not.
His tummy’s wide; Pooh eats hunny quite a lot.
Winnie. Oh, Winnie. Winnie has a hunny pot.