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Song Parodies -> "Guy-Controlling Crone"

Original Song Title:

"Like a Rolling Stone"

Original Performer:

Bob Dylan

Parody Song Title:

"Guy-Controlling Crone"

Parody Written by:

John A. Barry

The Lyrics

Once upon a time, you dressed so fine,
You hadn’t lost your mind, not gone gyn--
Illness, though.

People call, then there’s a doll,
You’re bound to fall
For her; mom says stall

She used you, laughed about
Your thin body, called you “gangly lout.”
And she would talk so loud;
You and her--three’s a crowd.
She shouts, “Layabout!”
“Keep your mouth shut down!” you squeal.

Now down you kneel,
Cowed by her squeal.
How does it feel?
You completely she owns. . .
Guy-controlling crone.

You’ve changed the finery rules: you’re like Ms Motel,
Where life is a slow hell--spruce up not used up beds.
So drone-like you go tighten ’em up,
And then you short-sheet,
But no one signs up, so you wind up. . .
Oughta be on meds.

After you sever, cop arrives--
He is a dick, in fact; his is among the lives
You take with that set of kitchen knives
Used to pare; you are a wacked goon, that’s no jive!
You slay dude, but duchess is your spiel.

Now down you kneel,
Cowed by her squeal.
How does it feel?
You completely she owns. . .
Sly-controlling crone.

You’re dressing now in gowns, you sneer and frown,
Bust a jug’lar, cut ’er down
When you come unwound. Is that wicked you?
You sever--don her hood--you ain’t understood
Your mom no-good alter ego does shiv sticks for you.
You put in trunk of that chrome horse that nice chick you whacked,
Carried her on your shoulder; you’d sliced in attack.
In the car is where her body sat,
Then you speeded to the mudflat--
You drove in the goo; heavy, sinks past the wheels.

Down past the wheels,
Poundage of steel.
How does it feel?
You completely she owns. . .
Guy-controlling crone.

Princess? No, this creep’ll go on with slittin’ people
By givin’ shivin’ with an awful blade.
Exchanging balls. . .gynec’logic rifts he thinks,
Now dresses in shifts of violet, pink, ’cause he has gone off, crazed.
You used to be beau, a dude;
Now, chap, clothed ya bin in drag; by nag hag bag you’re abused.
Go be her now, she calls you, you can’t refuse.
You’re now near nutless, just a nut in her shoes
She’s a miserable cow. And YOU’RE a she, it is revealed.

Now you’re revealed,
How does it feel?
Now no appeal
’cause you’re on your own,
To late to atone,
Rejected your clone,
Completely alone,
Completely a crone,
Drained swamp’s dry’s a bone,
Be put in a home
By controlling drones.

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Original Song: 
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Voting Results

Pacing: 5.0
How Funny: 5.0
Overall Rating: 5.0

Total Votes: 8

Voting Breakdown

The following represent how many people voted for each category.

    Pacing How Funny Overall Rating
 1   0
 2   0
 3   0
 4   0
 5   8

User Comments

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Jeff Reuben - May 27, 2009 - Report this comment
Sounds like this old crone nags like a wife! A sad commentary, yet a slight turn-on :)
alvin - May 27, 2009 - Report this comment
a DOUBLE dose of norman..oh this IS my lucky day...brilliant piece of work
Leo Keough - May 27, 2009 - Report this comment
As always, love your Dylan send-ups!!!...555!!!
NorCALvotrix - May 27, 2009 - Report this comment
0hhh Captain " Buff-&-Low ", I see that "Operation Scarecrow" is not going so well . . . at least according to your lowing . . ! !
Mark Scotti - May 27, 2009 - Report this comment
WOW, a sequal on the same day!!! 555 bats in his belfry...
PMS - May 27, 2009 - Report this comment
E-NORM-ously funny.
Timmy1000 - May 27, 2009 - Report this comment
Yeah - a Dylan story song for a Norman story - nice!

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