-> "The Regrets of the Edmund Fitzgerald"
Original Song Title:
"The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"
Parody Song Title:
"The Regrets of the Edmund Fitzgerald"
The legend lives on from the Pizza Hut on down
of the food that gave me a grim nightmare.
The delicious kind went straight into my mind
and it placed a terrible image right there.
With a load of mushroom, took it back to my room
because late at night, my stomach's empty.
That pizza, I knew, was a snack to be chewed.
But it's fate and not hunger I'm tempting.
The dream's not the pride of my troubled insides
coming out of a store out in Sayreville.
I didn't sleep well, and now I sure can tell:
It's so scary, it might leave you prayerful!
Concluding my snack with a variety pack
of the breadsticks with cinnamon dipping.
But soon, you should know, to my head it did go.
Worse than any drug, it left me tripping.
I tossed and I turned, and I painfully learned
that this combo left my gut imperiled.
And at 2 AM, I heard voices, "Ahem!"
'Twas the crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald!
"These songs you write, Mike, something we do not like,"
said the ship's captain, Ernest McSorley.
"To our memories, it's not something to please.
It's left us feeling troubled and poorly."
When the next speaker came, the old cook came on deck
saying, "Mike, the truth's now an arriver.
I was sick that sad trip, and did not make the slip.
Look it up: I'm the only survivor!"
The crewmates wired in and it made such a din
that I should not be parody herald.
But how can I stop writing ideas that pop
in my head based on "Edmund Fitzgerald"?
Does anyone know know how those 29 souls
got into my room? Was it the pizza?
My doctor did say that it's sure not the way
to give my subconscious double-feature.
I might have gave up or I might have downsized
on my snack or washed it down with water.
And all that remains is the terrible pains
brought by old ship and crew, how I caught 'er.
My twisted form rolls and it takes such a toll
worse than any on Turnpike or Parkway.
Keep eating that stuff, and I'll have nights so rough
and my dreams will come in such a dark way.
But onto the site that we call Amiright
they take in parodies that I send in.
But "Eddie Fitz" songs may just be kinda wrong.
Is this rule that I soon will be bendin'?
In a musty old hall in East Brunswick I squirmed
from a late meal that left me so fearful.
My blood sugar dives for the 29 lives
that were lost on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from my bedroom on down
how tonight, I will go to bed starvin'.
I won't be a dope, so I guess I can hope
to dream of something nicer, like Arwen.
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|How Funny: ||2.3|
|Overall Rating: ||2.3|
|Total Votes: ||25|
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