In all good parodies..there is El Pace-o
Cadence & rhythm where new words must fit
Matching each syllable with close precision
While making sure natural accents still sit..

Often at night's when we'll write our new version,
Then late concentration can cast the best spell
Playing a slow game of switching and trading,
When we've the right word our mind rings a bell

Deep is the zone that each author locks in
Some may have reflexes gi-i-i-inned..
Writing and changing, a phrase, rearranging,
So, in between spaces, some stiff word's not pinned

We - song - wrang-lers..
Must challenge ourselves like a young lad's first dating
Work with a tablet, with pen, PC, more..
The mounting emotion increases our heart rate,
When with a great phrase or right word we score

Sometimes for minutes,
We'll sit calmly silent..
Seeking proof perfect, the spoof to be done..
Sev'ral thoughts race through our minds at these moments,
Our job's to choose and select the right one..

Perhaps the back door of sarcasm's best..
Thoughts stray like horses untie-i-i-ied..
We could rope a good one,
That looks like it could run,
Or toss it back, and some new filly ride

Write as good as we can,
And keep smooth the El Pace-o..
Not let no bad grammar creep in and show..

With rough El Pace-o a new song is wasted..
Then all our hard work will be scarred and cleft
Like a dull sword or a bad dancing motion,
Time wasted effort may be all that's left..

So, I saddle up my soft chair and I write
Through the wee hours of dar-ar-ar-ark
Hoping tomorrow, a submit, I'll have one
Icebag this headache and shift out of park..

Now at last, here I am..
On the trail with great fitting El Pace-o
Visualize favorable comments below..
Rhyming is strong and it pushes me onward
Off through the air, my work's ready to go..

But with a new read I find there's some errors
Touch ups are needed, I'll work it some more
Telling myself - it's a good thing I caught 'em
That's what good scanning and close reading's for

Something's still dreadfully wrong, now I feel
ill deja vu hurting pride..
What I am striding has familiar straddle,
Making me weary and doubtful inside..

Starting to fear creation's gone wrong,
With..my..confidence fallen,
I flip thru "Search"..unprepared for the rest
Find the same title and jokes that I've trifled
It's like a bullet's ripped into my chest..

Off, of that page, scream my words like an echo
Much of the humor and phrases, the same
Cradle my head in my arms...what I'd die for..
Glows in the archives with John Barry's name

Already been done...with...John...Barry's...name