The Dirty Beatles

Someone I don’t know well, long, nor much about read the bit about me writing a parody of the national anthem.

That tickled his fancy because he’s in a cover band. But, not just a cover band. Well, that’s not true, it’s just a cover band.

The but comes from the fact they want to be more. That want to be a dirty cover band. But, not just a dirty cover band, they want to be the dirty Beatles.

Desire is all well and good. The problem is execution. You see, whenever they’ve tried to write songs on their own their audience balks. The songs never go over. I told him that’s because if they’re not playing the best songs ever written they sure are playing the most recognizable. It only stands when they offered their material it wouldn’t match up well.

Turns out I was wrong.

Their original songs sucked. All of them. That may be harsh but out of the fifteen songs he sent, the musicianship was good, singing good, but there was nothing there.

I guess it’s like someone who can copy any drawing or scene perfectly but can’t invent something from scratch. I’m not sure if that’s a good analogy but I’m sure not everyone who picks up a guitar, can play competently, can interpret the songs of others can write a song.

At first I was reticent. Sure, I’ve written more lyrics in the last six months than I have in two decades but I’ve actually got projects that are taking my time and, besides, I’m not sure I could write dirty Beatle lyrics.

Turns out I was wrong.

I’m about halfway through the email telling the guy I wasn’t interested when two song titles popped into my head. I went on to tell the guy I really wasn’t very interested but I did have a couple of ideas.

I don’t know if they’ll ever get this idea off the ground but you can’t say I didn’t give them a dirty start.

The two songs that popped into my head were Lady Madonna (I know! When I tart something up I take out the gawdhead) and Yesterday.

And, because I’m a sharer, here ya go.

Stinky vagina, you sure ain’t discreet
Your punani’s stinking like rotting meat
Your cooch is runny, has a funky scent
It’s like your gash has started now to ferment

Friday night arrives you fuck a nutcase
Sunday morning dripping has begun
Mondays cock just added to the spore case
Gee that was fun

Stinky vagina, what will you infest?
Wonder if you’ve even had a pap test

Gee that was fun
Stinky vagina, draining on the bed
Amazing that a pussy can bleed so red

Tuesday afternoon the scents offending.
Wednesday morning ointment didn’t come.
Thursday night it sure could use some mending.
Gee how much fun

Stinky vagina, you sure ain’t discreet
Your punani’s stinking like rotting meat

Yes I’m gay, I couldn’t have it any other way
Now I’ve made my choice it’s where I’ll stay
Oh, I believe that yes, I’m gay

Suddenly, I’m getting dates when I go to pee
There’s a burly leaning over me
Oh he just came so suddenly

Why he had to blow I don’t know he couldn’t say
He tried to prolong, all day long ’cause Yes I’m gay

Yes I’m gay, now I live life as if I’m on display
Now when I walk it is with a sway
Oh, I believe that yes I’m gay

Mm mm mm mm mm.

Epilogue:

The band members went through both sets of lyrics and, although they like them both, they REALLY like Stinky Vagina BUT no one wanted to be the one to sing Yes I’m Gay.

So I told them to punt.

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3 responses to “The Dirty Beatles

  1. Wonderful lyrics…I guess my only issue is that the lyrics would hardly get heard in the places the “Dirty Beatles” would play…maybe they should stay away from gay bars…

  2. Dirty Beatles

    Asshole! What are you? A baby? Because we don’t want to use one of your songs you tell us we can’t use it? Then you have to say our songs suck? You suck! Fuck you!

  3. Nice of you to visit to set the record straight, DB. As my wise and talented friend, M, pointed out, even if I was to let you use the lyrics (not songs – The Beatles wrote those) it probably wouldn’t be in places I’d like them to hang.

    But, let’s now dwell or get into a pissing contest. Let’s go to the facts. Let’s first talk about your songs. They flat out, hands down, indubitably suck the porcelain off a urinal (cake extra). You even agreed. So scrape the indignation off your pock-marked face.

    As far as my not allowing you to use my lyrics, well, I think the phrase ‘my lyrics’ pretty much denotes ownership and with that the right to allow or decline as I see fit.

    The reason I hit the decline button had little to do with you not wanting to use a lyric. It was the back and forth whining between you and your bandmates (which you so thoughtfully CC’d to me) about who’d sing such a lyric that annoyed me. At that moment I knew it wouldn’t be the one thing I look to get when doing something for free: FUN. No fun, gotta run.

    I banged out those lyrics in less time than it took you to write your fuck off to me. It was a lark. Something to entertain me. You were an afterthought. A good deed done for free.

    When I saw the process and effort that goes into keeping your band from imploding (the fact that no one wanted to stand on stage and say yes I’m gay was just a blip) is when I felt it best for me to pack up my tent and take my toys home.

    I wish you and the boys the best of luck.

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