Archive for the 'Parodies' Category

We’re Dealin’

The Mission Territory Parody Department is back after an extended break. I will leave it to my devoted reader(s) to determine my ulterior motive at this characterization…

(to the tune of “We Are Called“)

Come! We’re open tonight!
Drive ’round the lot, our prices are right,
All our cars passed a ten-point inspection,
And for your protection,
Our best guarantee…

Chorus:

Buy our cars! We’re sure that you’ll like ’em!
Buy our cars! Get a beach trip for free!
Buy our cars! No credit? No problem!
There something for one, and for all!

What? Can’t find our lot?
Just look for the spotlight off I-95!
We have all our cars washed, waxed and spotless!
Forget our street address?
Find the American flag!

Chorus

Look! Our special this week
Is a ’96 Taurus with ten thousand miles!
It was owned, by a granny from Cincy,
Drove only on Sundays,
To the church down the street!

Chorus

Once you’ve purchased a car,
For service, don’t worry, we’ll handle it all!
From your oil, to a bad alternator,
Or something more major,
No job’s too big or too small!

Chorus

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Where I Am, Lord

I’d almost forgotten that I had started composing a new parody, so after a long delay, I give you:

Refrain:

Will you meet me
Where I am, Lord?
What I feel, Lord, must always be right.
I won’t go, Lord,
You can’t lead me,
All your people follow their own hearts.

Why, O Lord? I don’t know why,
It just makes me want to cry,
All this talk of mortal sin.
Won’t you still save?

refrain

I have tossed and turned all night.
There isn’t any darkness, right?
Won’t all live forevermore
In your embrace?

refrain

Look at all those hearts of stone!
They want me to come on home,
Why won’t they leave me alone?
I am OK!

refrain

(feel free to add more verses…)

I’d Rather Be (or, Lightyears Away)

(as a follow up to On Chicken Wings, and I suspect you can guess the tune…)

Here in this place, bright light is streaming,
Now is the dentist drilling away.
See in this place, my fear and my screaming,
Accepting the punishment for tooth decay.

I’d rather be washing old dirty dishes,
I’d rather be walking miles in the rain,
Than here on my back, with anaethesia,
Praying the drill doesn’t enter my brain!

He says, “Open wide, I can’t see way back there,
How can I fix it, only by feel?”
So I take a deep breath, say a quick prayer,
And hope if he slips that the damage will heal.

I’d rather be doing calculus problems,
I’d rather be cleaning hair from the drain,
Than here on my back, with anaesthesia,
Praying the drill doesn’t enter my brain!

Things are progressing, I’d almost say nicely,
Three cavities down, and one more to do,
But one little nerve is blocked only mildly,
He enters the pulp, I think I might sue…

I’d rather be trapped on a small island,
I’d rather be mumbling, declared insane,
Than here on my back, with anaesthesia,
Praying the drill doesn’t enter my brain!

The torture is through, my terror is ending,
I leap from the chair, not feeling so ill,
But here in this place, one rule is unbending,
Before leaving the office, you must pay your bill!

I’d rather be saving for a vacation,
But yet, on the whole, I cannot complain.
Despite all my fears, in jubilation,
That horrible drill didn’t enter my brain!

On Chicken Wings, or, The Ballad of the Cafeteria Catholic

You who smell this lovely smorgasbord,
Who will dine with the fork and the knife,
On each trip remember,
A new plate if you must.

Refrain:
And we will feed you all, on chicken wings,
Greasy fries with stringy cheese,
Salad that isn’t all that green,
And ice cream, out of a machine,
At the end.

The glare of the lady, who works behind the line,
Need not worry, or cause you fear,
She’s there to ensure our profits,
By dispensing each their own.

REFRAIN

You need not fear that terror of the night,
Indigestion, intestinal pain,
Though thousands writhe in anguish,
Pepto will steer you clear!

REFRAIN

If you return to eat with us again,
All you can, only six ninety-nine,
The same three meats, and the same four veg,
Will be there to satisfy your tongue.

And we will feed you all, on chicken wings,
Greasy fries with stringy cheese,
Salad that isn’t all that green,
And ice cream, out of a machine, at the end.
And ice…cream…out of a machine…at the end.

(thanks to Bekah for the subtitle…)