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Song Parodies -> "Runaway Twain"
Original Song Title:
"Runaway Train"
(MP3)Original Performer:
Rosanne Cash
Parody Song Title:
"Runaway Twain"
Parody Written by:
John S Bond
The Lyrics
RUNAWAY TWAIN [to the tune of: Runaway Train (John Stewart)]A silmultaneous parody of a classic song,and a roast of a popular singer (Shania Twain).Originally written by John Stewart and performed by Rosanne Cash.Fractured by me, in 2003.
I'm worried about her
And I'm worried about me
The curves around her waist
Are easy to see
Her flashy scant clothing
Obscene, and inane
This thing has turned into
A runaway Twain
Long and loud bellows
There's a screech from on stage
Incredible rumors
that she's still all the rage
Her high screeching tempest
just like Lita Ford
Reminds me of nails drawn
across a blackboard
Tone deaf and awe-struck
Her fans run in droves
They'll pay up in blood
to see one of her shows
To try and get off now
With Shania's insane
As those who lust after
this runaway Twain.
This thing has turned into
A runaway Twain
Oh, the Cd's she'll sell you
They are always in twos
I have been here before, yeah
But what can I do
I'm worried about her
And I'm worried about me
We're plugging our ears
And counting to three
What are the choices
Except to refrain?
From the God-awful sounds
from the runaway Twain?
We must be delivered
from this runaway Twain
Our lust is burned into
This runaway Twain
And I'm worried about me
The curves around her waist
Are easy to see
Her flashy scant clothing
Obscene, and inane
This thing has turned into
A runaway Twain
Long and loud bellows
There's a screech from on stage
Incredible rumors
that she's still all the rage
Her high screeching tempest
just like Lita Ford
Reminds me of nails drawn
across a blackboard
Tone deaf and awe-struck
Her fans run in droves
They'll pay up in blood
to see one of her shows
To try and get off now
With Shania's insane
As those who lust after
this runaway Twain.
This thing has turned into
A runaway Twain
Oh, the Cd's she'll sell you
They are always in twos
I have been here before, yeah
But what can I do
I'm worried about her
And I'm worried about me
We're plugging our ears
And counting to three
What are the choices
Except to refrain?
From the God-awful sounds
from the runaway Twain?
We must be delivered
from this runaway Twain
Our lust is burned into
This runaway Twain
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This parady is by my gude friend Johnny. HE funny. He very gude. I like this parady. Sinceerly, David J. Zwiglund
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