-> "When You're Trying to Fake (The Loser's Song)"
Original Song Title:
"When You're Lying Awake (The Nightmare Song)"
Parody Song Title:
"When You're Trying to Fake (The Loser's Song)"
Parody Written by:
A Roomful of Monkeys
The Lyrics
Lust, uninvited, sure wears out my wrist
Lust, chick-less lust, my hardened part is haunted
Lust, nightmare-like is all that's on my chest
I think of all the women that I've wanted...
When you're trying to fake an orgasm and make all your neighbours think there's someone with you
So you rattle the bed, hit the wall with your head, thinking of new respect that they'll give you
For they think that you're lonely and reckon that only a blind or a desperate lover
Would ever go to you or possibly, er..., like you, selecting you over another
Then the blanketing covers, your magazine lovers- not terribly great is your pricking
Not so hot, no big loss, and you don't have to floss, for it's only yourself that you're licking
Then you blow up a doll, smack her head on the wall for you thought that she maybe was cheatin'
And her silence decries any fibs or white lies she might give you to stop all the beatin'
Then she starts to go soft as air pressure is lost and you look for the puncture repair kit
But you always lose bits from these fiddly kits so you end up just screaming out "fairk it!"
And daydream that you're cool and you're nobody's fool and a regular Don Giovanni
With a bucket of cash and a wardrobe that's flash, lots of suits from CK and Armani
And each day you wake up you know you must make up for some personal charm that is missing
So you drive a big car and you hope at the bar it's not just your pillow you're kissing
You try worn pick up lines that are just like land mines, though the latter are far more effective
When that ploy doesn't work and they call you a jerk, you just figure they're way too selective
And you're not getting far with that girl at the bar though you gave her the money you owed her
For you that's how it goes, and she'll turn up her nose at your non-trivial body odour
You try playing rude games but she'll call you bad names when you say howsabout some strip poker
But the glint in her eye makes you not want to try for you *really* don't want to provoke her
Once again in your room, you return to the gloom and your faithful collection of videos
And you're glad your last date that just "wanted to wait" did not ask you to go and get rid o' those
So you try and relax as you go through the stacks and you look up a favorite honey
And you wish that someday, you'll be having your way with a girl who's not there for the money
Though you thought it was folly, you bought one more dolly but found out once you had inflated her
That her nose was too long and her mouth looked all wrong and for some reason they'd silver plated her
So she's green, gross, with fleas - conker-shapes on her knees - cauliflower ears and bizarre-knuckles
And you really can't bear it, to look right down there, it looks like it is covered in barnacles
Affairs are not often, you may see a coffin before a real woman that's baring
Not even a few are allotted to you, and your bed you may never be sharing
You're a butt-ugly geek on a big losing streak,
And you can't get a whore to walk in through your door,
And you have such a stack of pornos in the back
That you nearly forgot that love cannot be bought,
But a small speck of hope keeps your neck from the rope,
Because someday you must sate your feverish lust,
And just maybe someday someone good comes your way
And you two will be making some new plans
But until that beats all, grab ahold of your doll
For this night will be long: ditto, ditto, your dong
And thank goodness you still have your two hands
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Voting Results
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Pacing: | 5.0 | |
How Funny: | 4.8 | |
Overall Rating: | 4.9 | |
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Total Votes: | 12 |
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Voting Breakdown
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