-> "Mrs. Somebody's Bride"
Original Song Title:
"American Pie"
(MP3)
Parody Song Title:
"Mrs. Somebody's Bride"
The Lyrics
Oh, once upon a time
It was in November
Turkey Day, it used to make me drool
And I hoped if the roads were clear
To Granny's house, we'd go this year
But fickle fate can sometimes be so cruel
Cause on that day I did awaken
To find the honor had been taken
By somebody's new bride
The turkey, it would be fried
I grabbed my stomach, horrified
When I heard about this novice bride
And wondered what we'd put inside
The day Thanksgiving died
So hi, hi, Mrs. Somebody's Bride
I hear you're cooking, so I'm looking
For a good place to hide
I'm just a kid, so I can be cutely snide
Hopin' this won't be the day that I died
This won't be the day that I died
Did she learn to cook in hell
Did she have to torture the bird as well
Is her cookbook by DeSade?
Do you believe food can be damned
Can prayer save these candied yams
And can you tell me why it smells so odd?
Well, I know that you're in love with her
Cause I saw you eatin' food with fur
You both are off your nuts
Man, you must have cast-iron guts
I was a happy little bouncin' tyke
With a big dalmation and a mini-bike
But I wanted to take a hike
The day Thanksgiving died
I started singin'
Fie, fie this inedible pie
I made some jerky from the turkey
Cause the turkey was dry
And Uncle Roy thinks it's risky to try
Sayin' "This'll be the day that I diet"
"This'll be the day that I diet"
Now for hours I've gnawed on this bone
The mashed potatoes are like stone
And you don't want to see the peas
When their puppy tasted the turnip greens
In a fit he ate some magazines
And he washed 'em down with anti-freeze
Oh, and while the dog was in this groove
I swear I saw the turkey move
It wasn't really dead
Or was that in my head?
And while everyone still struggled on
I excused myself to use the john
And ate some crabgrass from the lawn
The day Thanksgiving died
We were singin'
Why, why did your cooking we try
I started heavin', disbelievin'
But the heavin' was dry
And Uncle Roy started eyein' a fly
Dreamin' "That's a corned beef sandwich on rye"
"That's a corned beef sandwich on rye"
Heady, sweaty, was the creamed spaghetti
The gravy wasn't quite table-ready
And the dressing was undressed
The fiendish fowl on the plate
Was daring us to masticate
I wished it was in Kuwait, in a nest
The aroma in that dining room
Reminded me of "The Mummy's Tomb"
My mind began to reel
As the wallpaper started to peel
And I wondered if a poke would yield
What the sauce on all those lumps concealed
Do you recall how it congealed
The day Thanksgiving died
I started thinkin'
My, my, is this my last goodbye
Guess I'm beaten, is it cheatin'
To be eatin' my tie
Though grown-up boys think it's sissy to cry
Wish a missile'd hit the house and we'd fry
A missile'd hit the house and we'd fry
Oh, and so we ate that ghastly feast
That was unfit for man or beast
With nothing left to take its place
So come on: Granny save us, Granny please
Whip us up some blackeyed peas
Cause this would have the devil sayin' grace
Oh, and as we pounded down each bite
My stomach trying to take flight
Not even ninety pounds
Could hold that turkey down
And as the bile climbed high into my throat
I tasted something akin to goat
I heard the fat lady's final note
The day Thanksgiving died
We started heavin'
High, high, almost reachin' the sky
I was strainin' and restrainin'
But my drainin' was nigh
And Uncle Roy staggered back with a sigh
Sayin' "This must be how elephants die"
"This must be how elephants die"
And all into the afternoon
We were heaving like the last typhoon
Even the bride was lookin' green
And to the bathroom I was drawn
The toilet queue was ten yards long
It had to be the biggest mess I'd ever seen
And huddled round the bowl like monks
We were gagging up and blowing chunks
But not a word was uttered
While the French toast went unbuttered
And the people that I most enjoy
My mom, my dad, and Uncle Roy
They finally rescued this poor boy
The day Thanksgiving died
So now we
Fly, fly back to home in Van Nuys
To grab a sandwich, make some Manwich
In each hand a fried pie
And Uncle Roy, with a tear in his eye
Says "I don't care if I blow up and die"
"Don't care if I blow up and die"
So, bye-bye, Mrs. Somebody's Bride
Take a shovel to your hovel
And the rubble inside
We tried your cooking and we all almost died
What's left over should be buried in lye
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Voting Results
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Pacing: | 4.9 | |
How Funny: | 4.8 | |
Overall Rating: | 4.8 | |
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Total Votes: | 9 |
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