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Song Parodies -> "Was a Polit' in The Battle"
Original Song Title:
"Was My Brother in The Battle"
Original Performer:
Kate and Anna McGarrigle
Parody Song Title:
"Was a Polit' in The Battle"
Parody Written by:
CryHavoc
The Lyrics
Original Lyrics are by Stephen Foster. It harkens back to an earlier time when going to war was something to be proud of. The valiant soldiers fought and gained 'Noble Scars'... at least until WW I. Blown off body parts and Chlorine burnt lungs or having part of your face shot away doesn't sound noble. Then I thought about all the Politicians rushing to places where people died to get perfect Photo Ops to show they care.... yeah right.... Polit': Politician (Shortened to fit song format) G.O.N.C.: (Generation Of No Consequence (Parenting)) This sort was born ca. 1990 or later and suffered no consequences while growing up. They never had failure shoved in their faces or suffered serious penalty for bad actions. They grew up not understanding failure so when failure happens, they take it out on the innocent.
Was a Polit' in the Battle
Sung to Was My Brother In The Battle - Stephen Foster
Tell me, tell me, weary voter from the rude Election wars
Was a Polit' in the battle where you gained those voting scars?
They were never brave though scheming, with their ending goal so vile
Were they counted 'mongst the winners or with losers so reviled?
Yes the Polit' sought your vote and now you placed him there!
When you asked him 'bout his promises, you gained a vacant stare...
(Chorus)
Tell me, tell me, weary voter, will he ever run again?
Or were they replaced with someone who will bring you yet more pain...
(Verse 2)
Was a Polit' at the shooting where only innocent did fall?
Did a G.O.N.C. become immortal while we jeered at parent pall?
Did he struggle with the Photo Op while showing that he cared?
Until he chased more dirty money as his crassness left us scared...
Oh, I’m sure he milked the sound bite with the blood still on the ground
While contending with a scandal costing votes all around....
(Chorus)
Tell me, tell me, outraged voter when they stumble will we laugh?
Because a Polit' never makes amends when they commit a gaffe!
(Verse 3)
Was a Polit' at the massacre when bloody bodies fell
Did they gloss over the carnage as they prated on from hell?
Pundits fed like maggots swarming as their book sales did climb
What the polit's do when these things happen should be called a crime.
When the trumpets call an end to this and no more time to pray...
When all are before God... what will these slimy Polit's say?
(Chorus)
Tell me, tell me, angry voter, with the Polit's sickly grin
Will we suffer more of his excess? Oh will we ever win?
Sung to Was My Brother In The Battle - Stephen Foster
Tell me, tell me, weary voter from the rude Election wars
Was a Polit' in the battle where you gained those voting scars?
They were never brave though scheming, with their ending goal so vile
Were they counted 'mongst the winners or with losers so reviled?
Yes the Polit' sought your vote and now you placed him there!
When you asked him 'bout his promises, you gained a vacant stare...
(Chorus)
Tell me, tell me, weary voter, will he ever run again?
Or were they replaced with someone who will bring you yet more pain...
(Verse 2)
Was a Polit' at the shooting where only innocent did fall?
Did a G.O.N.C. become immortal while we jeered at parent pall?
Did he struggle with the Photo Op while showing that he cared?
Until he chased more dirty money as his crassness left us scared...
Oh, I’m sure he milked the sound bite with the blood still on the ground
While contending with a scandal costing votes all around....
(Chorus)
Tell me, tell me, outraged voter when they stumble will we laugh?
Because a Polit' never makes amends when they commit a gaffe!
(Verse 3)
Was a Polit' at the massacre when bloody bodies fell
Did they gloss over the carnage as they prated on from hell?
Pundits fed like maggots swarming as their book sales did climb
What the polit's do when these things happen should be called a crime.
When the trumpets call an end to this and no more time to pray...
When all are before God... what will these slimy Polit's say?
(Chorus)
Tell me, tell me, angry voter, with the Polit's sickly grin
Will we suffer more of his excess? Oh will we ever win?
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