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Song Parodies -> "The Wreck Of The Death-Love Blitz-Feral"

Original Song Title:

"The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgeral"

Original Performer:

Gordon Lightfoot

Parody Song Title:

"The Wreck Of The Death-Love Blitz-Feral"

Parody Written by:

VU

The Lyrics

The dead wreck went down, eliciting a sick frown
From the killer war criminal Nazi
The war that he led poorly messed with his head
As he saw several oligarchs’ yachts seized
He was blowing the crime war cuz his troops were inept whores
Unfit as security guard sentries
Conscripts without a clue with heads filled up from a loo
They were stupid brutal, emp’thy-empty

The ship was set to die when missiles started to fly
As the sad captain jerked on his johnson
Soon his ship would be toast as fires started to roast
The tub, the Black Sea could be their coffin
Crew started to squirm, the Moskva was infirm
Mostly drunks fully loaded and reelin’
Poop deck swabbing stopped and all pulled up their pants
Before that, with romance they’d been squealin’

Ripped up were the wires that came cascading down
It was clear that the hit ship was failing
And every man knew, as the captain did too
That this would be their last day of sailing
All knew that their fate was doom it they should wait
To abandon the tub, so they hauled ass
Their cowardly shame on the bounding main
Was on display, as was stench of crapped pants

When jumpoff time came, they exited the deck
And they yelled to the crashing craft, “See ya!”
The lifeboats were filled as the Moskva caved in
Clanking sounds were onomatopoeia
Bulging were their eyes watching water run in
And extremely quickly the big ship filled
It was quite a sight, but they all knew that their lights
Might be snuffed by the dread thug war crim’nal

Now every one knows where a sunken tub goes
When it’s shelled and has lost all its power
From that very day, with sea shells she will lay
Mood of the maybe-soon-snuffed crew’s sour
The Moskva split up and then it capsized
As it sank down into deep water
Meaning the lamebrains now not able to reign
Terror on mothers, fathers, sons, daughters

Crazed putrid troll gets news of the sink
In his high crimes and high slaughter mansion
He’s so pissed his alopecia pate steams
Compared to him, an angel is Manson
He might well bestow on the captain schmoe
A gift that could leave him dismembered
If he’s lucky he’ll go to a gulag for slow death
And he will never be remembered

But behind the thug’s walls, more plans must be made
Because, lots of civilians still to kill
No reason, rhyme for the many war crimes
This homicidal psychopath’s too ill


The dead wreck went down, prompting many a frown
From the killer war criminal, nasty
His sick head is fed by thoughts of children dead
Vlad the impaler, bloodthirsty Nazi
(Moskva’s sailors quail when they’re back from sea
Cuz they know there’s a chance they’ll cease to be)

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