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Parodies of Church songs Print E-mail
Wednesday, 01 January 1997
From time to time I get a burst of creative energy, but not quite creative enough to write my own songs, so I do a parody. Apparently other people get these urges too because they've sent a few in.

Trendy Internet / Shadow Cabinet (1995)

Get into Netscape and browse
Look at the things it allows

"Internet Fever" - It'll push up the sales
Can you quote Python and the Holy Grail ?
Read about whales or read about Wales, got to
Make my own home page

Sounds sent from Sweden to here
"Th?s is my d?g dr?nk?ng beer"

Flames come first as a scathing flood
"RTFM you thick newbie dud !" This is the shedding of Internet blood
It's happening, I think

Once was nerdy
Click, click, link, MGET
Now it's groovy
Inside the trendy Internet

She offers file transfers to me
Ships all her warez FTP

Do not ask for whom tolls the bell
As millions connect to find out for themselves
That there's bugger all here, 'cept what you put here yourself, and it's
Owned by Bill Gates Inc.

Once was nerdy
Click, click, link, MGET
Now it's groovy
Inside the trendy Internet

Ketchup Stains / Dropping Names

"I want these clothes to be beautiful"
My customers always think
But the laundry game isn't always clean
Usually it stinks

Immovable streaks from where the dog peed
They make me want to turn to drink
If we work the long nights we'll get them out of sight
Soak 'em in bleach and it'll be alright

Altering corsets, it numbs my brain
Questionable sauces
Only ketchup stains, ketchup stains....

(Note: Yes, I wrote that just to get the last two lines into some kind of context :) )

Here's a few that I wrote in April '95.

(You need to know that Marty didn't know how to drive a car at the time)

There'll never be another quite like me
I'm in The Church and my name's Steve Kilbey
I'm always sad, I'll never be happy
Cos I write songs but don't know what they mean

Back in a minibus, it smells like a wrestler's truss
Our next gig's in a shop
It gets monotonous, no-one wants to tour with us
Please come back Ploog and Koppes

Things ain't so good since those two guys left us
Our contract's gone and things are getting rough
If they come back I'd let them do their thing
But I'd draw the line at letting Peter sing

Back in acoustic mode, we like doing two-man shows
We can do all our songs
Give me a microphone, I will sing in monotone
With Marty strumming along

Back on the stage we go, we won't do Unguarded Mo'
But which song should we do ?
Let's do "Grind" really slow, hey, where'd the audience go ?
There's just no pleasing those two

And it's only a smoke away
I'll be there toni-i-i-ight
Find the meaning I'm sure was there
When I wrote it last night

To hell with life, it's over, stop the ride
I'm sick of it, I'm going to suicide
Should I use a gun or a gleaming knife ?
Bugger it !  I'll just let Marty drive !

Reputation (Destination)
Our instruments have no way of measuring your feelings
Can never peer into your mind to see what you believe in
In the space between our albums, your memory of us fading
If you buy this record our careers you will be saving

Reputation, reputation

Draconian charts let us know
How well we have done, how well we have sold
Our contract is safe, the album went "Gold"
Our reputation starting to grow

Our interviews are useless or forged beyond believing
Rolling Stone made up some lies, we'll sue them by this evening
In the space between my brain cells some songs have been discovered
Rush into the studio, record them, sell them, try to help our...
....Reputation, reputation

It's not a religion, despite our name
Though Peter and Marty act like Abel and Cain
And Kilbey and Ploog always fight over drugs
Is reputation helped by this stuff ?

Our engineers are burnt out, our roadies are mistreated
I tell you it's the only way this record will be completed
In the space between our concerts our hearing is diminished
We can't go on if we can't tell who's playing and who's finished

Reputation, reputation
Violent Town (the Los Angeles tribute removed from Starfish)

(To the tune guessed it...Violet Town)

Smashing his face against the ground
They said "Welcome back to Violent Town
You look kind of strange, so you must pay
Get out of my face and "Have a nice day !"

When I'm here I have this feeling
I wish I could go from Violent Town

Buildings throw shade to freeze the ground
It's cold when you walk through Violent Town
Don't look in their eyes, they'll take offense
And probably sue for recompense

Rpt. Chorus

Big truth progress, it's all around
They're so advanced here in Violent Town
Boys with bazookas, girls with grenades
Bribe cops with credit cards or pay cash and save !

No offense is intended by these songs

11th April 1997
has done a parody of Lost

Sometimes I'm wandering under prehistoric skies

I feel there?s a pterodactyl after my eyes

I must go back - left my house keys behind

Here she comes with her penetrating stare

She looked at my mind and saw how much was there

Quick calculation - there's not nearly enough

CHORUS	Because we're lost

			Have we got cash?

			Cold desert stars

			Feel them fall from the sky			

			I want some pie

Follow her down to worship some god

Who tells me i?m pretentious - i wonder if that's odd

Then he says, 'You're never listening'

'The pursuit of adulation is your marg and your bread

It's an exquisite corpse and its lips are red

But it don?t go well on toast

CHORUS	And you are lost

			Where is your map?

			Now hang up 'cause 

			Madonna?s on hold

			She is so bold?

If you're alone and you're feeling blue

Everyone in Persia probably?s eating stew

I just hope they don?t get stuff in their beards

Here she comes with her unforgiving web

This Gothic look is really scraping the dregs

It must be time to change our hair care, stare

CHORUS	Oh yes we?re lost

			Where are my keys?

			Look at the map 

			Now add up the cost

			Do they take Visa?

28th March 1996
Here's Glen Thomas' Grinchillusionist

Okay, with Willy Wonka out of the way, here's my stab at "The Church tole Christmas." To the tune of "The Disillusionist."

He's sour and he's cranky
Mean as well as lanky
On a day like today
Scowling from his sleigh

He's like a gecko on steroids
More than a little paranoid
Thieving all the goodies
While you think "how could he?"

He can turn dogs into reindeer
Spoil all the day's cheer
Bet you he'll eat well
While he pockets your dinner bell

They say that he's ugly
From the head down
And the "heart" part of his body is a corpse
But in the end he's sweet
And gives back all the treats
On Christmas, the Grinch, he's no longer warped


It's missing phrases, I know. Not my best literary effort, and definitely proof that I need a life. More verses, anyone?

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