Original Song Title:
Parody Song Title:
Gives his neck a little nick,
And quickly it is roseate.*
The blade is shavin' too rough
So gashed, in trash he throws it.
Ouch! Nick it, nick it, nick it, throw it away,
Ouch! Nick it, nick it, nick it, throw it away.
He started shaving once a week
When he was just a lad
Now when the red rivulets leak,
He's glad there is no Vlad,
The type of guy who might be stirred
By those cheek-rosy flows.
It rains, 'cause his razor was burred,
Just like a bleeding nose. So
The styptic stick does the trick,
Now to air he'll expose it.
The stick splits and, too, is rough,
Thus cracked, in trash he throws it.
But travel, travel, travel does he, away,
But travel, travel, travel does he, away.
He flew halfway around the world,
To Romania went.
And then one night--note: night, not day--
He met a dapper gent,
Who schmoozed like Martin Landau
Saying to Johnny, "Eddie."
Like Bela, too, he purred his words,
But he was no pussy. Bat!
And in due time, he is bit--
The gent's not hemophobic.
He swills till he's filled enough;
Vlad's glad when he Type-O's it.
Blood dribbles, dribbles, dribbles, dribbles away,
Blood dribbles, dribbles, dribbles, dribbles away.
Now Stu must stay out of the sun
And shun the light of day.
At sundown, like a bird,
(Bat, actually) he flies away.
So you had best tread carefully
When you light out at night,
'Cause when Stu's lips drip spit and curl,
He'll bite and take your life.
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|How Funny: ||4.6|
|Overall Rating: ||4.4|
|Total Votes: ||7|
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