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Song Parodies -> "If Gordon Lightfoot Sang (?)"
Original Song Title:
"Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"
(MP3)Original Performer:
Gordon Lightfoot
Parody Song Title:
"If Gordon Lightfoot Sang (?)"
Parody Written by:
Patrick McWilliams
The Lyrics
I thought I'd have some fun with this. I reckon most regulars here will recognize the original song. I've put a couple of references in the lyrics, see if you can spot them.
The first time we met, though you didn't know it yet
I began making plans to possess you
In just a short time I would have you for mine
Then I'd grab and I'd kiss and caress you
I'd delight in your charms, holding you there in my arms
Watching all of my friends turning jealous
"How could such an old cur land someone like her"?
"What's your secret, we beg you, please tell us"
Beaming with pride with my new sweetheart at my side
We would face every challenge together
Sacred vows we'd recite, then on our wedding night
We'd make love and we'd promise "Forever"
But when that day came your plans and mine weren't the same
Though I thought for sure we would be married
But I heard you respond, "Hell no, we aren't"!
"I would rather drop dead and be buried"
Though unknown to me, you'd been running around
And yet, all the time you were smiling
Now everyone knows, as my sense of shame grows
A list of my faults you were compiling
A litany of hate, you did not hesitate
When the Witch of Invective came bashin'
You said it all, I felt two inches tall
In the eyes of my friends, such a failure
You said, "Where do I start, you're a grouchy old fart
Always complain of my spending
I need a man who won't open his mouth while to
All my needs he is attending
When it comes to your looks, I would rather read books
I prefer someone who is more swarthy
As white boys go, you are so much whiter than most
For that reason alone, you're unworthy
My celibate life is sure to cause strife
Some pleasures for now I'm deferring
I want no part of any lust in your heart
Both your priest and your doctor concurring"
We should have split up, I should have said good-bye
Down the aisle I'd not get to walk you
But the ball is still in play, I will have my way
Though I'll not be so gauche as to stalk you
Pair of bones roll, Gypsy woman chants
In a darkened room behind a curtain
"With this crystal ball, I can foretell all
The lady will be yours, for certain"
A woman I know, Miss Marie Leveau
A bottle she offered to send me
A potion divine, her Formula Number Nine
The magic to make you befriend me
Beneath a full moon's light, in a graveyard midnight
I joined hands with some witches in coven
The church bells chimed till they rang nine hundred times
On the day that you gave me your lovin'
There is no way to tell, was it Heaven or Hell
That contrived to fullfil my obsession?
Something went to your head, then you came to my bed
Now, forever you'll be my possession
I began making plans to possess you
In just a short time I would have you for mine
Then I'd grab and I'd kiss and caress you
I'd delight in your charms, holding you there in my arms
Watching all of my friends turning jealous
"How could such an old cur land someone like her"?
"What's your secret, we beg you, please tell us"
Beaming with pride with my new sweetheart at my side
We would face every challenge together
Sacred vows we'd recite, then on our wedding night
We'd make love and we'd promise "Forever"
But when that day came your plans and mine weren't the same
Though I thought for sure we would be married
But I heard you respond, "Hell no, we aren't"!
"I would rather drop dead and be buried"
Though unknown to me, you'd been running around
And yet, all the time you were smiling
Now everyone knows, as my sense of shame grows
A list of my faults you were compiling
A litany of hate, you did not hesitate
When the Witch of Invective came bashin'
You said it all, I felt two inches tall
In the eyes of my friends, such a failure
You said, "Where do I start, you're a grouchy old fart
Always complain of my spending
I need a man who won't open his mouth while to
All my needs he is attending
When it comes to your looks, I would rather read books
I prefer someone who is more swarthy
As white boys go, you are so much whiter than most
For that reason alone, you're unworthy
My celibate life is sure to cause strife
Some pleasures for now I'm deferring
I want no part of any lust in your heart
Both your priest and your doctor concurring"
We should have split up, I should have said good-bye
Down the aisle I'd not get to walk you
But the ball is still in play, I will have my way
Though I'll not be so gauche as to stalk you
Pair of bones roll, Gypsy woman chants
In a darkened room behind a curtain
"With this crystal ball, I can foretell all
The lady will be yours, for certain"
A woman I know, Miss Marie Leveau
A bottle she offered to send me
A potion divine, her Formula Number Nine
The magic to make you befriend me
Beneath a full moon's light, in a graveyard midnight
I joined hands with some witches in coven
The church bells chimed till they rang nine hundred times
On the day that you gave me your lovin'
There is no way to tell, was it Heaven or Hell
That contrived to fullfil my obsession?
Something went to your head, then you came to my bed
Now, forever you'll be my possession
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User Comments
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Nine hundred times I'd say you write the funniest lines, blessed with the gift that's bestowed thee
555! LOL at "As white boys go, you are so much whiter than most" - I too suffer from that malady (must be those Irish genes).
I don't have your talent for deciphering song meanings, but let me hazard a guess: The last verses had you 'putting a spell on her'.
I don't have your talent for deciphering song meanings, but let me hazard a guess: The last verses had you 'putting a spell on her'.
Couldn't get that "As white boys go, you are so much whiter than most" line out of my mind. I kept thinking there was a Dylan song that had a related reference in it. So I went searching and found the line I remembered, which was "My complexion she said is much too white" in the song "Highway 61 Revisited". Maybe you can do something with that.
Leough, you got it. I thought more people might jump in on this one. Did not know about the Dylan song. I already did something with that line, several years ago in a poem: As white boys go I'm whiter than most/Some say I even look like a ghost / Is it because I'm Irish? / Hell if I know / Maybe I'm just part albino. / Now tall, dark and handsome, that's most women's taste/ I've got the complexion of library paste / I go out out in the sun til my face turns red / Next day all my skin starts to shed / I'm always suffering from discrimination / 'cause of my lack of pigmentation / Content of character? Color of skin? / When judged by the latter, I just can't win. / What you get is what you're seein' / Son of a pale, white European/ I'll never be one of the swarthy persuasion / My carcass is 100% Caucasian / So, tell me, how am I going to strike up a spark / When just like Chernobyl, I glow in the dark?
If anyone had looked at this one, I had three clues: "I heard you respond "Hell no, we 'Aren't'" and "I'd rather drop dead and be 'Buried'". Along with "The church bell chimed til it rang Nine Hundred times". Maybe I should not have posted on Monday.
The hints were subtle, so I missed them- but 555! I'm the opposite and write lyrics others would never dare to :)
The poem was good! I never let my fair skin get in the way of enjoying life. When I was in my 20s, I was a water skiing enthusiast. I owned a couple of boats and went out every weekend during the summer. I couldn't stand to use sun tan lotion, so I didn't. Fortunately, I've only had one carcinoma that had to be frozen off. Now I avoid sun exposure so much that I probably have a vitamin D deficiency.
Ah! I didn't catch it, but after reading the comments I see what you did. Very clever!
A lady friend once told me that for romantic purposes she preferred men with a darker complexion. That was the origin of this poem.
I could say that if she was that superficial, you were better off without her; but many people (including myself) have physical preferences. So you look around until you find the one(s) who prefers your type. A few years back I posted a parody on that theme with a much more upbeat ending than your poem:
http://www.amiright.com/parody/60s/peterpaulmary29.shtml
http://www.amiright.com/parody/60s/peterpaulmary29.shtml
"Love Potion Number Nine" was too obvious, and since you know what I think of the actual OS (and DK the words by heart), no, it would never have occurred to me.
Nice job of showing that short songs can be smooshed to long ones, thus enabling The Return Of The Two-Way Smoosh, whether to TWOTEF or any other.
Next level would be to fine-tune matching the stresses (accented syllables) of parody to OS , but it wasn't too distracting here, so still a 555 for the sheer audacity to do it, and quite cleverly at that. (Others, take note?)
Nice job of showing that short songs can be smooshed to long ones, thus enabling The Return Of The Two-Way Smoosh, whether to TWOTEF or any other.
Next level would be to fine-tune matching the stresses (accented syllables) of parody to OS , but it wasn't too distracting here, so still a 555 for the sheer audacity to do it, and quite cleverly at that. (Others, take note?)
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