All about them scales (parody lyrics)

 

I’ve always enjoyed parodizing things when I had a fun idea, so here’s another one based on “All About that Bass”

I’ve got more here and here.

 

Because you know I’m all about them scales
’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales

Yeah, it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no cockatoo
But I can roar it, roar it like I’m suopposed to do
’cause I got that rough skin that all the birds miss
All the right claws and all the sharp teeth
I see the scientists, making up stuff and shit
We know that shit ain’t real
Come on now, make it stop
If you got teeth and claws just tear ’em up
‘Cause every scale of you is perfect
From the tail right to the top
Yeah, John Hammond he told me he spared no expense at all
He said, dinos don’t quack, chirp or produce some other bird calls
You know I won’t be no pigeon or stupid ass budgerigar
So if that’s what you’re into then go hug a mosasaur

Because you know I’m all about them scales…

Home in your dreams

This one came to me when Sara Amundson tweeted a pre-flash-fiction-reading selfie of her at home, stating that was “where the Murdercorn wig lives”.

It, quite obviously, can be sung1 to the tune of Home on the Range

Oh, give me a home where the Murdercorn roam
And the gore and the entrails, they spray
Where often is heard a bloodcurdling word
And the children cry out in dismay.


Chorus:

Hunt, hunt in your dreams
Where the gore and the entrails, they spray
Where often is heard a bloodcurdling word
And the children cry out in dismay.

The peace it was pressed from the place you get rest
It’s not likely it’ll ever return
To the dreams in your slumber where monsters now lumber
And everything to nightmares they turn.

Chorus
But don’t be afraid, someone comes to your aid
To put an end to the monsters you dream
They hunt the jabberwock all around the clock
To make sure the human race is safe.

Chorus

My brain works in mysterious ways.

What is that all about?

Well, Sara Amundson, the original Murdercorn and mother of monsters ((whom you should totally follow on twitter)) is working on publishing her Urban Fantasy trilogy Dreamer.
It’s all about monsters coming alive from nightmares. Some of those exist as flash fiction2 and some even as video readings.

You know the mother of dragons:

 

where are my dragons

But do you know the mother of monsters?

where are my monsters

Footnotes
  1. more or less []
  2. and you can totally request your own. I got one! []

Let it flow!

So I tried to pump out some parody lyrics for today’s blog. First I wanted to turn “Baby got Back” into something brass related. I like big brass and I cannot lie. But I don’t even like the song.

So I decided to fall on my backup plan. Turn “Let it go” into a pee-song.1

Halfway through I realized I wouldn’t even have to change that much and stopped. So have this bit and a few gifs.

The lake glows blue in the valley right,
Not a toilet to be seen.
No room of isolation,
and it looks like I’ll be seen
The flood is pressing like this qushing spring inside
Couldn’t hold it in;
Heaven knows I’ve tried

Don’t let them in,
don’t let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don’t feel,
don’t let them know
Well now they know

Let it flow, let it flow
Can’t hold it back anymore

Let it flow, let it flow
Go right in and slam the door
I don’t care
what they’re going to say
Let the flood stream out
The wet never bothered me anyway

See?

Footnotes

  1. Yes, I’m immature. []

We are the Borg

There comes a time when we hear a certain call
When the ‘verse must come together as one
There are races trying
And its time to send the cubes to Earth

The greatest gift of all

We can’t go on pretending day by day
That someone, will soon make a change
We are all a part of a great Borg family
And the truth, you know,
Borg is all we need

We are the Borg, we are the Collective
We are the drones who make a brighter day
So lets assimilate
We will add all of your
Bio and techie
Distinctiveness to ours.
Adapt or die!

You have no choice, your culture will adapt
And you will service the Borg forever!
We will assimilate you, become one with us.
All resistance is futile in the end!

When you’re facing is, there is no hope at all
Buit if you do believe you can escape our grasp, wel wel wel well
Please do realize resistance is futile
So let’s stand together as one

WE ARE THE BORD! WE ARE THE COLLECTIVE!

All about low brass

I’ve been playing an instrument for 21 years now. The tuba. That leaves some room for ridicule, but then every musician makes jokes about the other instruments or sections.

What’s the difference between a brass orchestra and a bull?
The bull has the horns at the front and the asshole at the back.

There’s a fair amount of music puns going around in my twitter feed occasionally and innuendo does play a large role in that as well. You might have noticed. Or maybe not. Anyway, most of the following parody was concieved during and just before playing a sort of caroling concert at my home village just before Christmas. So there’s that. The original, pretty obviously, is Megan Trainor’s “All about that bass”. You may have heard it.

Because you know
I’m all about low brass
’bout low brass, no trumpet
I’m all about low brass
’bout low brass, no woodwind
I’m all about low brass
’bout low brass, no drumset
I’m all about low brass
’bout low brass

Yeah, it’s pretty deep, I play no dog whistle
But I can blow it, blow it
And you are gonna hear
’cause I got that volume that all the ears fear
And all the right valves in all the right places

I see the saxophone with all the fake shine
We know that brass ain’t real
C’mon admit it now
If you got real metal, just blow it loud
’cause every inch of it is shiny
From the mouthpiece to the bell

Yeah, my conducter told me to please play it quiet
I said I like a little more metal to sound out right
You know I don’t play no firewood squeaky ass clarinet
So if that’s what you wanna hear please get out of my way

Because you know
I’m all about low brass
’bout low brass, no trumpet
I’m all about low brass
’bout low brass, no woodwind
I’m all about low brass
’bout low brass, no drumset
I’m all about low brass
’bout low brass
Hey!

I’m bringing tuba back
Go ahead and tell them squeaky flutists that
Now I’m here playing. I know you think you’re rad
But I’m here to show you
Every inch of it is metal from the mouthpiece to the bell

Yeah they did tell me an orchestra needs all kinds
They say without the other instruments it won’t sound right
You know I won’t play no wanna-be flugelhorn trumpet part
So if that’s what you wanna hear please get out of my way

Because you know
I’m all about low brass

 

Rudolph the Red Shirt Ensign

You know Savik and Chapel and McCoy and Spocky,
Sulu and Chekov , Uhura and Scotty,
But do you recall?
The most famous crewman of all?

Rudolph the red-shirt ensign
Had a very flashy shirt
And if you ever saw it
You would fear he’d bite the dirt
All of the other crewmen
Used to laugh and be right mean
They never let poor Rudolph
Join in any away team

Then one boring mission brief,
Jim Kirk came to say,
Rudolph with your shirt so bright,
Won’t you lead my team tonight!

Then all the crewmen loved him,
And they shouted out with glee:
Rudolph the red-shirt ensign
You will soon be history!

 

Have a long and prosper Christmas!

All the right fur in all the right places

Because you know I’m all about that box,
‘Bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box

Yeah it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no LOLcat
But I can purr it, purr it like I’m supposed to do
‘Cause I got that meow meow that all the kits chase
All the right fur in all the right places

I see the videos with all them kittycats
We know that shit ain’t real
Come on meow, make it stop
If you got fluffy pawsies, just raise ’em up
‘Cause every inch of you is furry
From the bottom to the top
Yeah, my momma she told me don’t worry about your size
Sit in boxes you hardly fit into it just feels right
You know I won’t be no match-stick leg skinny-ass Greyhound dog,

So, if that’s what’s you’re into
I’ll stick my head inside a hole

Because you know I’m all about that box,
‘Bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box

I’m bringing cuddly back
Go ahead and tell them skinny kittens meow
No, I’m just purring I know you think I’m fat,
But I’m here to tell you that,
Every inch of me is furry from the bottom to the top
Yeah, my momma she told me don’t worry about your size
Sit in boxes you hardly fit into it just feels right
You know I won’t be no match-stick leg skinny-ass Greyhound dog,

So, if that’s what’s you’re into
I’ll stick my head inside a hole

Because you know I’m all about that box,
‘Bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box

stu_2014 031

Last Christmas

Oh god, there it is. Every year when Christmas draws near, we listen varily to the radio programmes, hoping to avoid it, until at one point that one song comes on.

Pretty much everyone in the office at work hates it. Except one coworker who turns it up. “What’s your problem? I like that song!”

Wham!’s Last Christmas1

A while ago Emmie Mears who is totally awesome, you should follow her on twitter and read her book ranted a bit about it and I got an idea.

 

So, here goes!

Last Christmas
I cut off Wham!’s head
But the very next day it grew back on
This year
To save all our ears
I’ll try to do something special. 

Once listened, ne’er forgot
I keep my distance
But I still catch the song
On the radio
I do recognize it!
Well,
It’s been a year,
It doesn’t surprise me
(Merry Christmas)

I hacked it off up and sent it
With a note saying, “I hate it”
I meant it
Now I know what a fool I’ve been.
But if they sang it now
I know I’d try it again.

Last Christmas
I cut off Wham!’s head
But the very next day it grew back on
This year
To save all our ears
I’ll try to do something special.

Oh, oh, baby.

A crowded room,
Friends with tired ears.
I’m hiding from it
From that tune from hell
My god I thought it was finally over
No! I guess I need a shoulder to cry on.
That song on the radio, brings pain to my heart

I wish I could just go and tear the it apart, ooh-hoo
I could play a good song, I’d never hear you again
That song on the radio, brings pain to my heart (I’ll cut off Wham’s head)

I’ll grab them and kill them, and tear them apart
Maybe next year I’ll give it to someone
I’ll give it to someone special.

Disclaimer: I do not endorse anyone being hurt just because of that song, I do endorse switching the radio station or turning off any audio equipment and screaming at whoever put that thing on.

 

Footnotes
  1. I don’t even know if they just covered it and I can’t be bothered to look []

The Next Generation music (bad pun intended)

What if Status Quo had rocked the mid-2nd millenium instead of…ya know?

A paid vacation on an asteroid
Captain Kirk flies into the void
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Now you remember what the draft man said
Don’t wear a red shirt or you are dead
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

You’ll be a hero of the whole quadrant
A five year patrol is all you want
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Alien faces as you wait to land
But once you get there no one gives a damn
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Photo torpedo flying over your head

Phaser beam flying over your head
If you want to survive beam out of bed
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Exploding console in the dead of night
The ensign calls : “Stand up and fight!”
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

You’ve got your phasers set to kill
Your finger’s on the LCARS but you’re not sure you will
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Light’s are failing and the ship’s a wreck
Is this illusion or a holodeck?
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

 

Or maybe the Village People?

Where can you find pleasure
Search the ‘verse for treasure
Learn science technology…

Uh. I think that one already IS all about starfleet.

 

Tweeting in the Dark

A quick google and a few tweaks later1 I had the first few verses and chorus of a re-imagining of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep.

Here’s a quick reminder to what it sounds like:

Tweeting in the dark

There’s desire starting in my heart
Reaching for my phone, I’m checking it in the dark
Finally I can see it crystal clear
The screen is lighting up and it’ll lay your shit bare!
See how I read it, every tweet of you
Don’t underestimate the things that I tweet you

There’s desire starting in my heart
Reaching for my phone,
I’m checking it in the dark

The scars on my nose remind me of it
They keep me thinking that I almost had it all
The scars on my nose, they leave me breathless
I can’t help feeling
On my face the phone would fall
(You’re gonna wish you never followed me)
Tweeting in the dark
(Phones are gonna fall, tweeting in the dark)
I had my phone inside of my hand
(You’re gonna wish you never followed me)
And you faved it, to the tweet
(Phones are gonna fall, tweeting in the dark)

Footnotes
  1. yes, I was at work, but I couldn’t stop myself []