That’s a major bummer about Bon Jovi dissing the Great New York State Fair for an Andrew Cuomo fundraiser, but it does create opportunities in the song parody department. One disclaimer: Try as I might, I could find only three Bon Jovi songs that sounded sufficiently famous to a general audience to justify parodies. For that reason I’ve rounded out the column by parodying two songs from other 1980s-era Hair Bands. You’d probably rather have an actual concert, but to paraphrase Twisted Sister, we’re just gonna fake it ….
Blowin’ Off the Fair
(to “Livin’ on a Prayer”)
Tommy breeds prize-winning cocks. Poul-try Barn’s so hot. He’s also showing crested ducks. . . but one’s dead, so dead. The Gianelli line is long So Gina kills some time, hum-ming a song From Jon. From Jon.
She says I’m just so glad these tickets are bought though they cost so much and the Econoline’s shot. We’re going to the show, and that’s a lot. But wait! Double U the Eff! Heeee blew off the fair! Bite me and my motorized ch-air A Cuomo tool under all that hair Thanks, Jon, for blowin’ off the fair.
(Stanza 2) Tommy and Gina split up. They were Bonded over Jovi, and and now it’s a crock … so sad, so sad. She clings to hope he’ll do a show. Tommy’s had enough, says: “You both make me want to blow, to blow.” She says I’m just so glad my ticket is bought though it cost so much and the Econoline’s shot. I’m going by myself but better than not But wait: Let’s do it again: Heeee blew off the fair! I-I-I forgot my kids in day care. I’m 200 pounds and my midriff’s bare. Thanks, Jon, for blowin’ off the fair.
A thousand dollar meal is what you sell. Politicians promise heaven, then put us through hell. Chains of self-importance keep you in a pit. If you try to climb out, your tight white pants split. You’re coasting on fame. Your music is lame. There’s nowhere to go, When you’re in bed with a Cuomo Shot to our pride, And now we’re pissed. You forced us to go see Styx. To us you lied, now we’re in a fix. Guys like you have small coffee tables.
Cash Cow: Dead or Alive
(to “Wanted Dead or Alive”)
It’s all the same, only the names will change. Everyday it seems someone else pays. Another fundraiser where the faces are so rich. I’d fly all night just to fill that niche.
I’m a sellout, I’m a rocker with no pride. I’m a cash cow. Dead or alive. Cash cow. Dead or alive. Sometimes I shill for pols, sometimes not for a few days. And the suits that flatter me always vanish in a haze. Sometimes you tell a job by the entree on the plate. When its lobster or filet mignon It means a heavyweight.
I’m a sellout, I’m a rocker with no pride. If I didn’t play campaign events People think I died. I walk these aisles. . . at Kmart near the back. I see my CDs. . . in the closeout rack. So many years have passed since I had a hit. Can you believe people actually buy this. . . music? I’m a sellout, I’m a rocker with no pride. I’m all about the dough you spend, not the kind that’s fried.
(to “Shot Through the Heart”)
Hair apparent: A Jon Bon Joviesque toupee gives follicles a bad name (bad name).
Come on Feel My Goat
(to “Come on Feel the Noize” by Quiet Riot) Come on feel my goat. That floats my boat. 4-H is wild, wild, wild Wild, wild, wild, wild So you think I’m not the brightest parent. I tell you honey, I sort of try, I sort of try. Come on pull his leash Or he’ll get out of reach. It’s my child, child, child Child, child, child. I think.
Fighting for College Opportunities for the Middle Class
(to “Smokin’ in the Boys Room” remake by Motley Crue) Do ya ever seem to have one of those days where everyone’s on your case from Vladamir Putin all the way down from, well, some rodeo clown in Missouri? Well you know, I used to have those all the time. But I found a way to get out of it Let me tell ya ‘bout … Sittin’ on the Vineyard thinkin’ it’s a drag. Listening to the First Lady—just ain’t my bag. When two bells ring you know it’s my cue. Gonna hop a bus to someplace called Syracuse.
Fighting for college opportunities for the middle class. Fighting for college opportunities for the middle class. I guess some people go there to fish for the bass. But I’m going to Syracuse to fight for college opportunities for the middle class.
Email Jeff Kramer … if you dare … at [email protected]