Song Parodies -> Hey, Mr. Softee (Don't Play Your Song For Me)
| Original Song Title: | "Mr. Tamborine man" |
| Original Performer: | Bob Dylan |
| Parody Song Title: | "Hey, Mr. Softee (Don't Play Your Song For Me)" |
| Parody Written by: | Too Rich Olson |
Ethno-Bluegrass-Collegists Alert!Seems to me that the gawdoffalest public tragedies, catasstropheys, and garden variety massacrees have often inspired Great Folk Songs, some of which find their way into the Bluegrass Music. Older folks might probly can recall some of them 60's tunes by Rob Dolan, The ChungKing Trio, Phyllis, Phallus & Fred and a hole raft more. All them Playlists on Bgrass-L could come in real handy, like, you could look 'em up! And lots of them songs ended up with tunes borried from somewheres else. To my mind, a real important new Folksong has recently come to the light in the Htfd., CT area where the TV and newspapers has been full of stories about a Mr. Softee driver who attacked a senior citizen with a baseball bat! Now I'm guessin' that there might could be some sort of connection between the alleged attack and the following song (which seems real likely to become a Bluegrass standard someday). I could be wrong, I ain't no real Ethno-Bluegrass-Collegist. Opposing opinions are solicited.
HEY, MR. SOFTEE (DON'T PLAY YOUR SONG FOR ME)
(tune: goes something like that old Rob Dolan "Mr. Gangrene Man" thing)
Hey! Mr. Softee, don't play your song for me,
It's way too loud for neighbors as you're drivin' through.
Hey, Mr. Softee, man don't play your song for me
Them high-pitched jingles jangle my old brains to glue.
I know that evening's Dreamcicle is melting in my hand,
Dripping on the sand, left me sticky here to stand - but not complaining.
Your aggressiveness amazes me, got bruses on my arm
I'm sounding the alarm and the summer city's no good place for dying.
Hey, Mr. Softee, don't swing that bat at me
Cause I complained your jingle was too loud for me.
Hey, Mr. Softee, man don't swing that bat at me
In the jingle jangle evening I'm hollerin' at you.
Play it softly and put down that big stick of yours
With neighbors lockin' doors, I'm nursing all my sores.
My arms are too numb to reach.
I'm thinking of maybe I'll be moving soon
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm fixin' to move away.
I'm leavin here today - goin' to where those Softee trucks don't bother me.
Hey! Mr. Softee, don't play your song for me.
It hurts my ears - and for a week they're a ringing bad.
Hey, Mr. Softee, man don't play your song for me.
Why not get a little bell and we'll come a follerin' you.
Hey, Mr. Softee, man put away your bat.
Ain't no need for that - put on your paper hat.
Hey! Mr. Softee, man ring a little bell
Or you can go to hell, Good Humor Man!, we'll yell
In the jingle jangled evening I ain't a follerin' you.
(tune: goes something like that old Rob Dolan "Mr. Gangrene Man" thing)
Hey! Mr. Softee, don't play your song for me,
It's way too loud for neighbors as you're drivin' through.
Hey, Mr. Softee, man don't play your song for me
Them high-pitched jingles jangle my old brains to glue.
I know that evening's Dreamcicle is melting in my hand,
Dripping on the sand, left me sticky here to stand - but not complaining.
Your aggressiveness amazes me, got bruses on my arm
I'm sounding the alarm and the summer city's no good place for dying.
Hey, Mr. Softee, don't swing that bat at me
Cause I complained your jingle was too loud for me.
Hey, Mr. Softee, man don't swing that bat at me
In the jingle jangle evening I'm hollerin' at you.
Play it softly and put down that big stick of yours
With neighbors lockin' doors, I'm nursing all my sores.
My arms are too numb to reach.
I'm thinking of maybe I'll be moving soon
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm fixin' to move away.
I'm leavin here today - goin' to where those Softee trucks don't bother me.
Hey! Mr. Softee, don't play your song for me.
It hurts my ears - and for a week they're a ringing bad.
Hey, Mr. Softee, man don't play your song for me.
Why not get a little bell and we'll come a follerin' you.
Hey, Mr. Softee, man put away your bat.
Ain't no need for that - put on your paper hat.
Hey! Mr. Softee, man ring a little bell
Or you can go to hell, Good Humor Man!, we'll yell
In the jingle jangled evening I ain't a follerin' you.
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I feel your pain, man! There's garden apartments next door to my building, and this moron playing "Turkey in the Straw" -- not even the entire song, just the first two lines over and over and over and over... and over again sits in that parking lot and serves up his treats for half a freakin' hour while I'm tryin' to catch the first couple of innings of the Yankee game! And it's loud! Add the screaming kids, and it's unbearable! I'd like to put THAT guy on ice! Even if this one stunk -- and it's great -- I still would've given it five chalupas! I mean, five bomb-pops!
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