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Parody View for the NewComer

Started by Fishy, March 28, 2014, 12:34:16 PM

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Similar to the excellent reviews from  new mercury we thought we would follow with a favourite parody from each album..one a week so kicking off from the first album..

we gave you the marmite inspired Finding My Way

Yeah, oh yeah
                                    Huge  brown eye
                                    Im comin in to get you                       
                                    Ooh, sit down
                                    Im looking out to grind you     
                                    Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
                                    Marmite M'way

                                    My nob is so long
                                    Its as big as Ray Mears
                                    Well, I hang in a thong
.                                   Oh yes, will bring you to tears!

                                    Look out, Im bummin'
                                    Homo, homo
                                    Look out im comin'
                                    Whore, yeah

                                    Im bummin'                 
                                    Using my big black bone
                                    Oh yeah

                                    Yea, oh Yea
                                    Huge brown eye
.                                   I'm comin' like a Karibou
                                    Ooh, sit down
                                    Im goin by the back door
                                    Say prayer, you'll tear
                                    Marmite M'way

                                    I've done you all night
                                    And Ive done you some wrong!         
                                    Left you gaping each night
                                    With my super bad dong!

                                    Look out! I'm comin
                                    Swallow, swallow
                                    Look out, Im comin
                                    Ho, yeah

                                    Im bumming
                                    Sit on my huge black bone
                                    Im cummin
                                    Ooh babe, I said Im comin
                                    slow babe, i said Im comin
                                    Go get your mama!
                                    The stain is runnin

                                    Ooh babe, i said Im comin
                                    On you babe
                                    Lets do some bumming
                                    No teeth? Then do some gumming
                                    It helps if you try humming
                                    Ooh, yea

                                    Im riding
                                    Im riding my wife at home
                                    Well, she's had it now
                                    Swimmin in my load
                                    Ooh yeah
                                    Ooh yeah

                                    Marmite M'way
From the Land of Honest Men.

Filthy, rude, gross, puerile, childish....and it made me giggle. ::)
The keys to happiness

Ok Fly By Night Album

Making Memories

There's a time for being as rude as he can
The show is done he runs out to the bus
There's a time for biking as fast as he can
Behind him all the fanbois eat his dust

You know we're having pay days
But they;re running out so fast
Our pensions getting bigger, got to last
We just play all the slurry
It drives the punters mad
The forums remind us
Play the good songs not the bad

Peart keeps biking he drums just for the pay
And he can't keep his thoughts away from home
He's travelling around. no wonder he looks down
Wears that hat so doesn't need a comb

Well from Start to YYZ and the dull guff in between
And still we've got another friggin show
The groupies  in the land take us firmly in their hands
Til the last song  then its backstage for a blow
From the Land of Honest Men.

bit behind with this

from CoS  Lakeside PArk

Fanboi rawkers all worship BU2B
Compressed poor sound and a lack of melody
A thousand setlist blunders, what the hell's the score
They pocket all the silver, no wonder you feel poor

Lost the spark,  dont want the bloody Trees
Jump the shark,  so many parodies
Tuneless shite, Headlong Flight                             
The fanbois play it every night

Days of dull rehearsals, leave out all our faves
No chance of Open Secrets, Peart gets the blame
Fish drinks Jacky Daniels, Jonners on the beer
Caravan is tragic, and Ianb's just a queer

Fans all in a lather, on the album release day
Sitting by the door waiting for parcels sent by Play
Geddy vocals are a screech, words don't hang together
Though its just an hour long it seems to last forever   
From the Land of Honest Men.



And the geek shall inherit the Earth

2:Temples of Syrinx

We've finally binned Wheres My Thing
The words we write make your eyes sting
The solo that will make you want to cry
New stuff for all,  old stuff is gone
Rehearsed to death let's kill the fun
Ever wonder why they wrote Far Cry?

We always play arenas and ice rinks
Our lights and speakers fill the massive halls
We like to play  the same songs, regardless
All the songs you like, are gone for evermore

Look around this show we've made
Monotony our stock in trade
Better off with Brotherhood of Man
Oh what a wide and gullible world
Let the merch stall be unfurled
Lets hope Red Starââ,¬â,,¢s daughter doesnââ,¬â,,¢t get us banned

We always play arenas and ice rinks
Our lights and speakers fill the massive halls
We like to play  the same songs, regardless
All the songs you like, are gone for evermore


What can this Strange Lyric be
When I read it, no rhyme is found
Its got words that just grate on the music
Why does Geddy sound like a hound?

See how it sounds like a sad fart
And makes us all scream out in pain
Songs that are wet as a fountain
Or noses that run in the rain

I cant bare to buy this new wonder
The people will all see its sh!te
Let them all try some good music
Some Priest or some Maiden tonight


You know its not unusual
To find out Neil can sow
I just can't stand Sweet Miracle
They've reached an all time low

Prison for this music
A long stretch they should do
There's nothing here exclaims my wife
Just a pile of retro prog poo

Yes we know there's nothing new
Why bother wasting time
keep it the same it seems to pay
Our pensions doing fine

A real nice ploy so why destroy
A chance to fleece the fan
You know you've got a silly quim
It's time to hit the can

I can't believe your playing
Nine tracks just can't be true
You'd better call security
Not sure what i'm gonna do

Listening to this music
Induces instant poo
There's got to be much more to life
Fanbois happy that they fleece you

Don't annoy Neil further
He has a book to do
The new stuff's really average
But it's good enough for you

Another ploy so why destroy
A chance to get a tan
They won't go out on any limb
Not the strategic plan

5: Oracle:The Dream

I listened to the drummers beats
And straight away I fell to sleep
He does the same thing every night
Peart cant you do something right?

Why stand this boring board of fair
A guitarist with dodgy hair
The singer has nothing to say
And every night the punters pay
I see the disc of Show of Hands
Its old an dull and should be banned
Their sense of taste has gone awry
And Alââ,¬â,,¢s eaten too many pies

They Should have packed up long ago
The older fans will tell you so
The album is too fcuking long
The oohs and aahs ruin the song
Home to curse the band and frown
Scared to change!

6: Soliloquy

The beer is in still my pies
The solo's still in my head
They wave bye bye and run a mile
Play something new instead
I wish that they might try The Pass
I'd come in my blue jeans

Just think of who my wife might be
there's a few babes i have a seen
I don't think they should carry on
Carry on and play You Bet Your Life
Oh Nooooooooooooooo

The neckline is low and she's got a nice pair
My wife's blood spills over

7: The Grand Finale

Attention all fans of these geriatrics
Attention all fans of these geriatrics
Attention all fans of these geriatrics
They lost bladder control
They lost bladder control
They lost bladder control
From the Land of Honest Men.


A Farewell To Kings

So we learn of rages, a mystery
Posts that faze and comments we throw
When they read such things, a madness
The toys from prams do go

They browse the page
For Rush is their existence
Fans feel down
Prince By Tor needs assistance

Topics full of comments smear goodbyes
Posting starts, its cruel then Gman flies
Fanboi tantrums  posts left by their wives
Beaten down by platitudes and
Scoffed at by the guys

The drum solo meandering
So need to give abuse
Peart keeps on glowering
His bitterness ,its truth
Some have a mind that Arrows is too long
Why can't Rush learn to know whats sh!te
And what pongs
What pongs??

Topics full of comments smear goodbyes
Posting starts, its cruel then Gman flies
Fanboi tantrums  posts left by their wives
Beaten down by platitudes and
Scoffed at by the guys

So Gman says goodbye and does depart
I bet he'lll change his mind when he
Decides he's been a prat
From the Land of Honest Men.


i. Prelude

Another dreary song thats sung             
It struggles and its ancient, its just began
To hate it could be treason
Set the tone then ramble thats the plan     

The concerts now last ages
Your hot dog becomes congealed
The new stuff is derided     
And the toilet's in a field

Ii. apollo: bringer of wisdom

Read his words no understanding
They are sh!t beyond repair
Multi tracked and multi layered
Whats he on about we wonder
There's always more so please beware

Windows good and Grace a belter
Hold Your Fire's above the norm
And the keyboards are on form
Snakes and Arrows gives discomfort
In the show that they perform

The fanbois were delighted
But they couldn't take the rise
They thought it was a pity
Ran back home to hug their wives

On the new stuff they're reliant
Even though it kind of pongs
The urge to try some new things
In the set does not belong

They're nice men but demented
And some fans get pretty cross
Requests for things to please us
And Neil wishes we'd get lost

Iii. dionysus: bringer of love

Neil rides bikes to give him solace
Drop of whisky in the night
Oh my God a book , its sh!te
You just want to paint your ceiling
Time to set the book alight

There's no laughter just his music
Shows no joy he's close to tears
Feels he's been on tour for years
Wants back home for personal reasons
Runs off stage and disappears

The good stuff is abandoned
And the show is overlong
The fanbois act as brothers
They think Rush can do no wrong

Vids and smoke they have aplenty
But most folks just hit the bars
Their pensions supplemented
Lots of dosh for girls and cars

And when winter falls upon them
And it caught Neil unprepared
Blogs of snow.. its desparation
And his bike needs some repair

Iv. armageddon: the battle of heart and mind

The fanbase is divided
As the new songs get derided
And the drummer is misguided
For so many troubled years
His songs have driven me to tears
The world will always wonder what will follow

We hope they wont, record another
Geddy sings just like my mother
Rasculinezââ,¬â,,¢s production smothers
Then we get part 4 of fear
Its enough to make us jeer
They hide behind the proggy mess that is

Some are utter sh!te
Take Available Light
And the Painful Fly by Night
It sounds a little trite
Closer to the heart is a spent force
It runs like a sick horse
VT is a waste of space
Its not a patch on Grace

V. cygnus: bringer of balance

I've no memory or awareness
But i've woke up with the horn
I downed too many spirits
Then i browsed around for pron
My girlfriend's called Olympus                         
And she's got a nasty cold       
To the city for a hotel
Cos she's not exactly old

I see the t-shirts priced too high
Drumsticks i'm prepared to buy
I cannot move i think they lied
When someone said there's room inside

Then thank feck now the solo's ceased
You realise now that you've been fleeced
No money left you want to cry
A cash machine, its rectified

Your mother is astonished
and the girlfriend thinks your mad
why you listen any further
Now they've worked out that your sad

All this tosh of Olympus
In a world of greeks and queers
The Fanbois blinkered
By this sorry Hemispheres

Time to seek some guidance     
As my mum said this to me
Clear up all this sickness
And please wipe down the setee

The sphere: a kind of dream

They play on stage together
But the shows are all the same
Better get a loan... not free
Then you'll wonder why you came

Yes the stage , its all been lighted
But the sound is not quite clear
Loads of cash and property
With the fanbois all united
That will further extend careers
From the Land of Honest Men.

Permanent Waves

Spirit of Radio

Begin each day hearing Geddy's voice
Just sublime and so conducive
I love that Peart's such a reclusive
And don't care if he's in some moaning mood

Stick on a song and crack out a load
There is glue over my fingers
But Neils lyric ever lingers
An outstanding blogger in his happy solitude     

Invisible air bass at concerts is rife
Clockwork angels has given us new energy
Devotional feedback is how we draw our strength           
Sharing a gift beyond price, our fab three         

All this tomfoolery slagging off their music     
Just gets me so downhearted
Just don't get me started                             
I'm really just sick of  this dishonesty yeah dishonesty     
We like to believe in the greatness of  Rush music                             
But unfunny rises and parody surprises
Shatter all the forum's air of pleasantries           

And words of their profits don't really bother me at all
Tour this fall
And tickets sent round by postmen.
From the Land of Honest Men.

Moving Pictures

My uncle has a camping site just past the roundabout
He said it used to be a barn, owned by his mum in law
On some days I load up with pies and drive A38
And rustle up a fire for my sausages to grate

Tents in the ground as the tension grows to get them up on time
Watch for the wind as excitment shivers to secure the line
And down in the barn my wife has preserved for me a washing machine
For fifty odd years, to keep my pants clean so i don't need that cream

I push away an old Capri that's blocked in my new car
A brilliant Vauxhall vectra With a tow bar that doth shine
I hook up to my willing engine, my friends think i'm a bore
Won't be spitting gravel cos 50 mph is fine

Wind in the air
Farting and sh!tting
I'm going to be sick
Bowel evac purge

End of my tether
My blood starts to boil
The food attracts a bear
Wish I was home
Im sick of this landscape
Nothing dry to wear

Suddenly ahead of me, across the camping site
A gleaming Winnebago takes a spot that's far too wide
I spin around with shrieking ire and look him in the face
The bloke has blocked my sunlight and he thinks he owns the place

Crippling wind
Straining the limits of pants made by man
Screaming out loud in fear and pain
I've just demolished the pan
At the one trap loo
I leave a giant turd stuck to the porcelain side
Race back to my tent
To eat some raw chicken from the fireside
From the Land of Honest Men.


We thought that dysenty deserved its own song...

Virus transmitted
Sickness received
Making toilet impact

Wife showing no sympathy
Eating unhealthily           
My rectum making more kack         

My brown eye
Ring piece burning hotter
Poo not gone
Its floating on the water
Need to go
Think i need my mother     
Sad old cow
Will she make contact ?
Might text my brother

Appendectomy ? Colostomy
Seems to me its Dysentry

My motion emitted         
My mother just heaved
Abusing the extractor

Need some dettol immediately
A change of pants for me
Toilet duck no impact

Gone to pee           
Dad's missed all the action
Found my mound
Horrified reaction
Stench must go         
No flow will call the plumber
Not sure how           
To get a clean pan
The smell will smother!
From the Land of Honest Men.

Grace Under Pressure

I'm just so glad that i'm alive
Another album out in June helps me survive

Undermines and calls of gay
Detractors, now just go away
Posting hate and spoiling fun
You don't like Rush..unlucky son               
I clutch Headlong Flight.. its what i really need
The bass is just unreal...the guitar is just ideal
Hoping that the forum is agreed
I'm turning up the volume my ears will bleed

Hating Rush insanity
No need for profanity
They tour for weeks and months go by         
Pearts a hero.. he wrote Far Cry

I hear the sound of postmen at the garden gate
Are the concert tickets here? Any money left for beer
Would I rather watch big brother? No way mate!         
But I mustn't read slims posts and take the bait!

I just can't wait to see them live
Are Rush the only decent rock band still alive ?
From the Land of Honest Men.

Power Windows

Your money lets us tour the world
Your money gets around           
Your money you don't have a choice
Your money lots of pounds
Your money make us feel like kings
Your money buys Al fries
Your money keeps us mighty fed
Your money we won't try           

Waste time pissing people around           
Sometimes Al might wear a rug
Some clown pushes sample buttons
About time that they pulled the plug
Stuff the money in a lorry         
Band should apologise
The usual setlist story
You will crumble at the price

Your money takes us round the world
Your money gives us booze
Your money don't want any fake
Your money then you lose
Your money makes us really cream
Your money buys us meals           
Your money your so easy lead
Your money buys us wheels

Most times Peart stares and glowers
Walking round with just a frown         
Throw you down a stairway
He's no time for clowns
Always writing 'bout religion
Thinking he's real cool
He's so full of fan derision
With his clips and his drum stool

Your money lets us tour the world
Your money love to take
Your money yes we're very shrewd
Your money your mistake
Your money Caravan is bland
Your money we control                 
Your money outlook's pretty bleak
Your money we just stole.
From the Land of Honest Men.

In anticipation of new_mercury's review of HyF..

Turn The Page

Zoony can't survive without vacuum
Sits and posts his crap  while at home
Wears pretend thongs  posting with strangers
Texting East Lancs Maf while on the phone

There's enough drivel for our displeasure
To read it through is misery
What he should do is be remanded
The Bacchus thread is tragedy

Every day we're reading like it's a manual
Hope against hope it is his last
Every day we're praying for some revival
Racing down the thread and browsing fast

Its just his age
He's in a rage
He posts so we
Ignore the page

Looking for the gas price forecast
Catching all the frames in the news
Feeling like a state of sedation
Learning that he doesn't like the blues
S'truth how really bad can it get
Cares not a wit with posts that just don't fit
How can anybody been enlightened
His threads are after all just utter sh!t

Every day we're reading like it's a manual
(Its just his age)
He posts so we ignore the page
Hope against hope it is his last
Every day we're praying for some revival
(he's in a rage)
He posts so we ignore the page
Racing down the thread and browsing fast
From the Land of Honest Men.

Excellent work.  The last one though should be subtitled (Pot, Kettle, Black)  ;D
"Who would have thought that the ending of freedom of movement of goods and people would lead to shortages in goods and people"

Head scratcher!


Anagram(for Bongo)

Here's a fake coming out of the farkness
Despair from paradise                                                     
End the need for Sweden                       
Check the stalls for merchandise

There is mic and mac in balsamic
Geddy makes a squeal
VT is largely tragic
And Ron he couldn't ronseal

There is some seat yes in the yeast
You will find you've been fleeced
Lerxst hair turning thin
New stuff returned to the bin

Caravan requires some assistance                   
In danger of being bland                 
Guitar volume is much too high
Peart needs taken in hand

Take fart from raft and feather
Caravan sounds cursed
Go fast from the barfest
Bare the barfest from the serb

New stuff is partly inane
It all sounds the bloody same
And Lerxst ain't getting thin
He seems to have a new chin             

Caravan will have its flamers
Mode will bow to dome
All the fans are in the house
You might wish you'd stayed at home

Sore is a sore from soreness
Redness around the bellend               
Lonley things like Peart
May find, cos he hasn't got a friend

I'm Peart in the pear of the part
Cryptic words are his art

This sh!te wears thin
Just toss it in the bin
From the Land of Honest Men.