The Ryme of the Old-Time Musique Man
| It was an ancient beardy man He shoppeth at a mall. He stopped we three at the HMV, Croaked, "Wherefore Shoppst thou y'all? There isn't much to see here boys, This place is such a mess— Your HMV and A&F GNC and CVS. Besides, CDs are second rate. I've scoured every shelf. My time is better spent at home Playing with my iTouch myself. But now you want to buy some songs, You've heard your idols sing 'em And you will learn the words by heart And make your cell phone ring 'em. These tunes will show your music tastes Are unsophisticated Unless you heed my sage advice, So sit and listen, sated." Then launched he into glass-eyed tales Of bands and concert t-shirts. We list'ned till our ears were sore, He spoke until his teeth hurt. At last, we asked him for advice. "Most groovy to the max, son" He stared hard at the Cinnabon, "Is surely Michael Jackson" My friend replied, "Was he the one Who knew Diana Ross?" The reply, a bold, full-throated yell, "I killed the albatross!" My friend, alarmed, he backed away. My other friend was flirting With some short-skirted Asian girl Although his game was hurting. He scratched yon pimples, touched his hair And laughed like wounded porpoise. The girl leaned back, too petrified To move like rigor mortis. So I, alone, bemoaned my fate. I had to take my lumps And find a ringtone to replace That Fergie and her humps. But yet, this Jackson I knew not— The beardy-man was gone. I couldn't ask him who was better: MJ or Madonn. So I was lost at sea, not knowin' Just who this Jackson was. I couldn't ask my family. No reason. Just because. And I've been told by Fox & Friends, "Trust not the mainstream media!" Instead, I found a surefire source— I searched the wikipedia. How soon mine jaw did hit the floor Amazed by the accomplishments I found he had achieved in life. How strong! Like Altoid mints! For instance, when he was a lad, He formed the Jackson Five. Reuinion Tour is put on hold Since Michael's not alive. Recorded many famous songs Like Billie Jean and Bad And Pleasure Principle and Steppin' Out—that dude was rad. But more impressive than his music Were projects literary— He was lesser known for writing fiction You all recall the scary Story all about the town That cracks like novice pottery And stones a man to death each year? That's Michael Jackson's "The Lottery" And though his frame was lean and frail, No one can guess the toils His muscles took whilst playing for The Raiders and the Royals And was a star for both! It was A surely brighter candle Than when he bet against himself— The White-Glove-Black-Sox Scandal! Success he'd too in politics. He must've wowed the ladies... Our seventh President! (Though Reagan Beat him in the eighties). An actor too—an SNL Alum who turned quite racy With his most mem'rable character: Dawson's buddy Pacey. But if you had to choose a feat And call it number one, You'd have to choose the way he fought At the Battle of Bull Run. So as I marveled at his life, Whilst sitting in my home, I took my pen and paper book And wrote that man a pome. "O Jackson, My Jackson" O Jackson, my Jackson, your fragile journey's done. There will be no more scandals like that time you held your son Aloft the clamouring crowd below from your Best Western balcony (Mayhaps you meant to teach him flight, like some new infant falconry). But O heart! Heart! Heart! Heart! Heart! I'm really really sulkin' You've ventured from your home alone Touché, Macaulay Culkin. Forever we'll remember songs from Jackson Five and Thriller And maybe even later hits from when you were more vaniller. No more your ears will hear the taunts of Wacko, Freak or Pedo No more your eyes will see the kids retreating from your bed-o. Come Jackson! Come father! Come LaToya, Janet, Tito! Moondancer, Prancer! Su baila es finito! Mike Jackson doesn't answer me, his lips are made of plastic. His skin, it cloaks his melty face like mournful beige elastic. The falcon has now flown away, O yes, the falcon beat it. I hope it didn't steal your shiny silver glove and eat it. But rest, fleet Jackson, rest awhile From Papa Razzi's troubles. Perhaps you should've spent less time With kids and more with Bubbles. |
An old man stops three gallants outside a music shoppe inside the Berkshire Mall This is a reference to American Idol, a popular television show. The old man calls the gallants' music taste unsophisticated See Gentle Dental for all of your toothache needs The King of Pop, recently dead I'm not entirely sure what rigor mortis means, but I am pretty sure it has something to do with zombies. Her lovely lady lumps. Check it out! a Fox & Friends is a news show that tells it like it is. You'd recognize these songs. One of them starts off with "Ba ba ba ba ba ba baaa" This story is seriously messed up, but in an awesome way. Mike knows football. Michael Jackson is the reason why our presidents can no longer serve more than five terms. The first one. He disappointed in the sequel. |
