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"A Little Less Constipation" (parody of Elvis' "A Little Less Conversation") A great jingle for a laxative.

Hmm, I think this parody just speaks for itself - it doesn't really need an introduction. Hope you enjoy...

"The Easter Egg Song"
(Parody of "Stand" by R.E.M. - for kids and adults!)

Stand in the market to pay (Easter eggs)
Think about the choc'late or the caramel filling (oh boy)
Stand in the market all day (in the queue)
Think about the way they're made or put 'em back on top o' the shelf

Once they are made, they do not have legs
Eat 'em up quickly - they're just choc'late eggs
The foil is there to keep them in shape
The egg is there - it's not made of crêpe

Oh, eggs in the pantry at home (are they good?)
Kids just love to hunt 'em in the garden on Sunday (oh boy)
Eggs made from choc'late, not loam (they're o-kay)
They could make you thirsty, better grab a glass of water or juice

Now just around March, eggs will abound
In supermarkets - just look around
And if you have lots, don't stuff your face
Folks'll be saying that you're a disgrace, now

Eggs now for Easter and stuff (have some more)
Maybe they're expired, better read the label (oh boy)
Eggs - have you not had enough? (they're just yum)
Think of what they've got to do with Jesus, maybe nothing at all

They're choc'latey eggs, with filling inside
Hope they're not filled up with xenon sulphide
But please don't give 'em to children to sup
Or they'll go crazy and eat 'em all up

Oh eggs, eggs! (Easter eggs)
Think about the cal'ries, wonder if fat they'll make you (oh boy)
Eggs, eggs! (self-control...)
All so tempting, they may just induce you to renounce dieting

Eggs in my pantry at home (have some more)
Think about the craving, wonder if I'm addicted (oh boy)
Eggs made of choc'late - not chrome (you're obsessed)
Think about the way they're made and wonder what your diet is worth

Eggs infiltrated my home (are they good?)
Eggs - are they better than foam? (the foil is there to keep them in shape)
Eggs - do you think this one's warm? (the egg is there, it's not made of crêpe)
Eggs - they won't leave me alone (they're all foul)
Easter eggs!

"Whiny Sappy People" (parody of Shiny Happy People by R.E.M.)

"Yellow Margarine"
(parody of "Yellow Submarine" by the Beatles)

In the fridge, the fridge of yore
lived bacteria, it's plain to see
And they told me of their lives
in the land of margarine
So I used a microscope
till I found the pea of green
And I heard the little germs
in the yellow margarine

They all live in the yellow margarine
Yellow margarine, yellow margarine
They all live in the yellow margarine
Yellow margarine, yellow margarine

And their friends swim up on board
Many more of them infect the door
Where they came from, I can't say

They all live in the yellow margarine
Yellow margarine, yellow margarine
They all live in the yellow margarine
Yellow margarine, yellow margarine

So they live a life of ease
Everything they need is in my fridge
Cheese of blue and pea of green
and of course, the yellow margarine

They all live in the yellow margarine
Yellow margarine, yellow margarine
They all live in the yellow margarine
Yellow margarine, yellow margarine

They all live in the yellow margarine...
[fade]

"Runnin' With Herman Melville" (parody of Runnin' with the Devil by Van Halen) Who wouldn't want to run a few laps with the 19th century author.

Weed It
(parody of "Beat It" by Michael Jackson)
A song for gardeners!

Look out the window - tell me what do you see?
Your garden's overgrown with weeds, they come for free
They grow everywhere and do not pay a fee
So weed it
Just weed it

I wanna tell you gardens do need your aid
They don't get weeded by some cutesy little maid
The neighbour's cat is of your garden afraid
Just weed it
Or you'll find a big snake!

CHORUS:
Just weed it (weed it)
weed it (weed it)
Go out to the garden, peat it
Use a wheelbarrow, tear out those weeds
They are such small things, they don't look like beads
Just weed it (weed it)
Just weed it (weed it)
Just weed it (weed it)
Just weed it (weed it)
Ooh!

Your weedy garden is a-terribly lame
It's overgrown with weeds, this ain't some kind of game!
But if the papers come,
You'll have fifteen secs of fame,
So weed it
Just weed it

Why are you still here? Why are you depressed?
The neighbours said that weedy gardens they detest
So get it looking good, and forget about the rest
Let's weed it
Can we go out and weed?

CHORUS:
Just weed it (weed it)
weed it (weed it)
As a gard'ner, you don't need it
Weeds are a pest that have to be cut
And once we do it, then we can strut
So weed it (weed it)
weed it (weed it)
Told you 'bout the weeds, so heed it

Weed out the garden, weed a whole park
Please don't go weeding out in the dark
Just weed it, weed it, weed it, weed it
weed it, weed it, weed it, weed it

[Guitar solo]

weed it (weed it)
weed it (weed it)
To allow it is to feed it
Don't allow weeds in gardens, you know,
Pack 'em in bags - in bins you will throw
Just weed it (weed it)
weed it (weed it)
Weed? You'll never never need it (oh no)

Use a wheelbarrow, tear out those weeds
They are such small things, they don't look like beads
Just weed it (weed it)
weed it (weed it)
Told you 'bout the weeds, so heed it
Weed out the garden, weed a whole park
Please don't go weeding out in the dark...

[Fade]

Manannan (parody of The Muppets Mah Na Mah Na). An ode to everyone's favorite wizard whose name no one can spell.

Blue-Flamed Sword
(based on "Blue Suede Shoes" by Elvis Presley; sung by the QfG Paladin)

Well, it's one for the honour, two for the shield
Three, I've got magic - and now you're healed!
But don't you pick on my blue-flamed sword.
Well, you can do anything but don't pick on my blue-flamed sword.

You can taunt me like a Frenchman rude,
Or tell punny jokes - or even lewd
Do anything (even say a bad word)
But don't dare pick on my blue-flamed sword!
So don't you pick on my blue-flamed sword.
Well, you can do anything but don't pick on my blue-flamed sword.

You can say that I am "on the take"
Tarnish my honour with rumours fake
Do anything - make me cross a fjord
But stay away from my blue-flamed sword!
So don't you pick on my blue-flamed sword.
Well, you can do anything but don't pick on my blue-flamed sword.

Well, I kissed a Rusalka - helped a Boyar
Aided Piotyr - his heir's a Czar!
So don't you pick on my blue-flamed sword.
Well, you can do anything but don't pick on my blue-flamed sword.

I have holy strength to fight a fiend
And so if I lose it, I know I've sinned
I won't be filching the dragon's hoard
'Cause I can count on my blue-flamed sword!
Now don't you pick on my blue-flamed sword.
Well, you can do anything but don't pick on my blue-flamed sword.

I can't be bored, blue-flamed sword
I'm not a lord - blue-flamed sword, yeah!
I'll fight a Nord, blue-flamed sword
Well, you can do anything but don't pick on my blue-flamed sword!

Smooth Operetta (parody of "Smooth Operator") An ode to the light opera.

Big Brother
(parody of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana)

How is this show not pigswill?
Can't figure why it does appeal
Why are they all so enthused?
I wish you'd tell me, I'm confused

Bridge:
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no
Oh no, oh no, oh no...

Chorus:
I'd exchange it for another
Here we are now, it's Big Brother
I don't want to be a bother
But I just don't like Big Brother
Because some guy will be swearing
And another will be blaring
Yeah!
Hey
Hey

I tried to watch the other day
But it had really nothing to say
Why would I watch someone pee?
This show does fill me with ennui

Bridge:
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no
Oh no, oh no, oh no...

Chorus:
Use these guys as cannon fodder
Here we are now, it's Big Brother
Well this show is such a plodder
But so many watch Big Brother
Because someone will be naked
But I think he'll have to fake it
Yeah!
Hey
Hey

Why is a camera in the loo?
Don't ask me, I don't have a clue
Is there a plot? It's hard to find
Oh well, whatever, nevermind

Bridge:
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no
Oh no, oh no, oh no...

Chorus:
Well they're screaming and they're yelling
But of boredom, this is smelling
All these people are repelling
Do you know why it is selling?
On the show, they're double-dealing -
I just think it's unappealing!
They're deceiving,
It is peeving,
They are dreadful,
So I'm fretful,
Overrated,
Crass and hated,
It is halting,
They're revolting...
It's insulting!!

Hell's Dells (parody of AC/DC's Hell's Bells) Dedicated to Hell's IT department.

I don't know the song, but it's a fun idea.

Here's a song all about those times when we were cramming for exams and such. This one is devoted to student trying to complete his Ph. D. thesis ...

"Carry The Five"
(parody of "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees)

Well, you can tell that it's time for Ph. D.,
And the student's tired as he can be.
He's survived on coffee (black),
But his thesis is now back on track.
And so he must write - cannot stop;
Or else his work will be a flop.
Can he be a doctor (math)?
Well, firstly he must walk this path...

Chorus:
Is he math'matician or will he be politician?
He'll carry the five, carry the five.
See professor judgin', but his work he won't be smudgin' -
He'll carry the five, carry the five.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, carry the five - carry the five.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, carry the fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive....

Well now, he's been working for so long,
Now the goal's in sight - he must be strong.
He's feeling exhausted but he's very close,
Now is not the time to be morose.
So now deltas dance, and epsilons,
Derivatives he calls upon;
Can he differentiate?
His theorem must not be late!

Chorus:
Is he math'matician or will he be politician?
He'll carry the five, carry the five.
Whether by statistics or by easier linguistics,
He'll carry the five, carry the five.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, carry the five - carry the five.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, carry the fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive....

He's writin' on. He needs those functions.
He writes those functions, yeah.
He's writin' on. He needs those functions.
Those functions work out, yeah.
Carry the five.

Well, you can tell that it's time for Ph. D.,
And the student's tired as he can be.
He's survived on coffee (black),
But his thesis is now back on track.
And so he must write - cannot stop;
Or else his work will be a flop.
Will he be a doctor (math)?
Well, firstly he must walk this path...

Chorus:
Is he math'matician or will he be politician?
He'll carry the five, carry the five.
See professor judgin', but his work he won't be smudgin' -
He'll carry the five, carry the five.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, carry the five - carry the five.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, carry the fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive....

He's goin' nowhere; he'll get his Doctor's.
He'll get his Doctor's, yeah.
He's goin' nowhere; he'll get his Doctor's.
He'll get his Doctor's, yeah.
He'll carry the five.

Sunday Study Sunday - (Parody of U2's Sunday Bloody Sunday). You have a test on Monday, so don't forget to study the night before.

WARNING: Once you start reading this, you will have this stupid song stuck in your head! Please don't say I didn't warn you!

"It's a Disney World"
(to the tune of "It's a Small World After All")

It's a world where ducks do not wear long pants!
It's a world where we tolerate no rants!
Where we have giant mice
(who may sometimes eat rice)
It's a very Disney world!

CHORUS!
We are Disney, so let's cheer
We earn billions every year
Come along and have a beer
It's a very Disney world!

Mickey waves hello
as you come on in
Well, our lines are slow
(but that is no sin)
And he smiles all day long
as he's singing our song
He's so sad, he wants to cry!

CHORUS!
He is now our Disney pawn
Working from the crack of dawn
Sunday? Then he'll mow our lawn
And a Disney minion he!

It's our Disney law
that you cannot die
on our premises -
you'll say "My oh my!"
If you die here, then we
just deny it with glee -
It's a death-free zone right here!

CHORUS!
If we say so, you're not dead;
In the line you'll get ahead -
Soda's free if you're undead,
And we welcome zombies too!

BONUS CHORUS!
We are Disney, so let's cheer
We will sell you Mickey ears
Come along and have a beer -
Pluto drinks a beer as well!

We are Disney, so let's cheer...

[fade]

Don't Fear the Tweeter: (Parody of (Don't Fear) The Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult) Angry tweets are nothing to be afraid of.