Paradox Parodies

I have always been an admirer, consistently with NMFT principles, of the art of song parodies. I can even cast my mind back to the work of the Barron Knights (anyone remember them?) in my pre-teens, and in modern times the Bob Rivers team and the occasional gem from Richard Littlejohn in the Mail have ensured that the interest is still fuelled.

When tempted to write my own in recent years, almost inevitably involving anonymous political satire, my main goal was to preserve as much of the original sound, flow and structure – and indeed lyrics - as possible, rather than simply treat the primary song as a loose template. In the days when Gordon Brown was Public Enemy No.1, the inspiration to turn “The Wanderer” into “The Squanderer” and “Lily The Pink” into “Gordie The Gink” certainly abided by those principles.

One accidental, but interesting, outcome of those two parodies was the reversal of the original song sentiments. Lily, the fictitious healer of all ills, became a political bull in a china shop, and Dion’s hero with the Midas touch in his own joybringing life became a villain with a Sadim touch (think about it) inflicting misery on all. But rather than republish those here now, let’s leave politics for a moment and write a new one. Having seen a TV competition where viewers were invited to guess a missing word from an upbeat, positive Katrina & The Waves song, and where one of the three alternatives was an exact opposite (how many viewers dialled their premium rate phone numbers to pick that one?), it was too tempting to let the song go by, especially when the original could be largely preserved: -

“I used to think maybe you loathed me, now baby I'm sure
And I just can't wait till the day when you walk out my door
Now every time I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down
Cause I just can't wait till you write me you're leavin' this town

Now I'm walking on eggshells (whoa oh)
I'm walking on eggshells (whoa oh)
I'm walking on eggshells (whoa oh)
It sure don't feel good

I used to think maybe you loathed me, now I know that it's true
And I don't wanna spend my whole life just a waitin' on you
Now I don't want you back for the weekend, not back for a day (no no no)
I said baby I just want you out and I want you away
(Chorus)

OK then, back to the politics. The close of the uninspiring Ed Miliband’s first year as Leader of the Opposition reminds me of how, shortly after his election to the post, I took a well known song about lifelong fraternal love, affection and respect and twisted it into the exact opposite. It’s almost a tale of deeply held hatred, ridicule and contempt between siblings: -

“Two little boys had two little toys
A hammer, and a sickle too
Gaily they played each summer's day
Socialists through and through

One little chap then had a mishap
Off came his hammer's head
Wept for his tool - naive young fool
As his older brother said

"Did you think I would start you crying
With one swing of my sickle true
Don't you stammer, it's just a hammer
I'm much more sly than you

When we grow up we'll both be MPs
And we'll rise up above the noise
Just remember that you're the younger
Though we're just two little boys"

Long years passed, Brown quit at last
Burnham's hopes fade away
Abbott too loud
Balls mad and proud
Surely a brother's day

Up rang a shout, result's finally out
Out from the ranks so red
David's bid's crashed, all hopes are dashed
Then came the voice of Ed -

"Did you think I would leave you dying
When I can stick the knife in too
Cry your tears, bro, the unions picked me
Though the membership wanted you

You just took the result for granted
One banana skin's wrecked your poise
Never once thought that I'd remember
When we were two little boys.”