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Song Parodies -> "Crust Rimes on the Ancient Mariner, Part IV"

Original Song Title:

"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Part IV"

Original Performer:

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Parody Song Title:

"Crust Rimes on the Ancient Mariner, Part IV"

Parody Written by:

John A. Barry

The Lyrics

"No fear now, Ancient Mariner,
No need to use thy hand.
For thou art long and lank and grown
Like a large tree-mast stand.

"So near thee find'st thou glistening thighs,
Also, fledglings fringed with down.
Fear not, the captain simply jests
In wearing bridal gowns."

Atone, atone, shall he atone,
Atone for his wide-ranged need?
He thinks the mate looks pretty, but
His bone finds girls bonny.

Bevy of babes so beautiful
On deck, dead-tired, did lie.
Yet he wished to have a Limey fling--
The mariner was bi.

Each nook would fit him fittingly;
He'd draw wide thighs to play.
He looked erotically on deck,
Where unbedded men lay.

In either nether region he'd spray;
In either lair he would gush.
His wick flickered wheree'r it flamed,
The part equal in lust.

He'd hose, if bid, one with/sans hose;
And the balls like pulses beat.
He would try with lady or lay with a nice guy--
Bake like-'em load in either type of pie--
Either pumpquim or minced meat.

A hot sweat settled on his limbs;
He thought of it both ways.
He looked on he and then to she. . .
And a decision weighs.

Endorphins pumped when he spied belles
But also rose for guys.
Whether he went for tit or tat,
He'd wind up between thighs.
Seven days, seven nights, there is a curse.
So to a guy he'd hie.

A moving moon sat atop thighs;
In it he would abide.
Softly she was going up,
About to be astride.

Her teeth becocked his salty main;
Her buccal whore-fress spread.
But where her lips' huge shadow lay,
Her fingers burnished a pathway.
He would not rear that elfish sprite.
Fellator makes him quake.

Call it a shag-blow, from the lips.
She never seemed to tire.
Blew, glossed the sailor; vented sack
Uncoils its swimmers through the track--
No longer holds its fire.

O lappy slithering, o tongue--
Carburetor sans air.
A spring of love gushed from the dart.
She'd fressed him, style "au pair."
He thought he'd faint from her lingual spree--
"Gesso" caked in her hair.

The elf came, imploring his spray.
Onto the deck came he.
The halyard popped gelled drops and sank
A load into the sea.

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Voting Results

 
Pacing: 3.8
How Funny: 3.8
Overall Rating: 3.8

Total Votes: 5

Voting Breakdown

The following represent how many people voted for each category.

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

User Comments

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alvin rhodes - February 10, 2005 - Report this comment
you never fail to amaze me with the stuff you come up with...5s
John Barry - February 10, 2005 - Report this comment
Thanks, Alvin. Four down; three to go. Don't know how these keep getting through.
Stuart McArthur - February 10, 2005 - Report this comment
me neither, but when you finish the book, there's gotta be a market out there - 555

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