Lyrics contest: “Intelligent People”

Perhaps the only genuinely funny thing that we’ve ever done on this site was our “All of That” alternate lyrics contest. We still have some prizes to give away, so we’ve always wanted to have another one.

Well, hello, “Intelligent People”!!!

Ah yes, Rob’s first foray into adult contemporary is ripe for the picking; for some reason, we’ve just now realized how awful this song is. So once again, we’re giving you the opportunity to aspire toward the lowest level of Dickinsonian greatness! Simply post your own lyrics here. We’ll give out a CW rarity to the best ones.

All we ask is that you submit one verse and chorus, though you can do more. Look to the end of this post if you don’t know the original lyrics.

Here are the rules, as developed by Mr. Dickinson himself in the original song.

 

  • Tenuous internal rhymes are mandatory (“Arise, my son / Fight, my son
  • ,” etc.) – however, rhyming at the end of lines should be kept to a bare minimum.
  • Please use awkward pseudo-English as a Second Language phrasing (“they will be the ones to hang around and prosper from,” “stimulate your flattened state”) when necessary simply for the sake of the tenuous internal rhyme. We mean it. Sacrifice all propriety and logic for the sake of the fucking rhyme! MAKE RHYMES NO MATTER WHAT THE COST! Seriously! Just fucking do it!
  • After dispensing your homespun advice, inexplicably assert that your suggestions are “all” the listener “can do,” despite any lack of evidence for such a strict limitation.
  • The dopier the chorus, the vastly greater your chances of winning.

Post your lyrics as comments on this post. Enter as many times as you like. We’ll keep it going until JULY 1. Prizes to be announced here soon! As usual, we will be giving away some GOOD FUCKING ASS SHIT!!! And of course, we’ll be competing with you.

(by the way, try to follow some sort of coherent theme in your songwriting, although since this is a site that features Neil’s Target fashion line and the Sanctuary Intimidation Crew, we can’t realistically be too demanding)

“INTELLIGENT PEOPLE” (from My Porsche is Yellow, 2005/2008)

Arise my son, weary and bleary eyed
You gotta fight, my son
Seek out good souls ‘cos they will be the ones
To hang around and prosper from
Right now it’s all that you can do

You’ve just gotta smile and hang out with intelligent people
You’ve just gotta smile and hang out with intelligent people

So come, my son, shake off your hate for everyone
‘Cos your hate will only break you
You gotta try, my son
To stimulate your flattened state
Crying now can’t help your case
This is no time for you to be alone

It’s time for you to smile and hang out with intelligent people
You’ve just gotta smile and hang out with intelligent people
And hang out with intelligent people

Arise my son, seek out good souls ‘cos they will be the ones
My life has shown me them
And right now it’s the best that you can do

You’ve just gotta smile and hang out with intelligent people
You’ve just gotta smile and hang out with intelligent people
You’ve just gotta smile and hang out with intelligent people
And hang out with intelligent people

10 Replies to “Lyrics contest: “Intelligent People””

  1. Just a short bit. Feel to run with this if you can:

    You just go to trial, and hang all the innocent people

    (I’ve got jury duty at the end of the month, so that probably altered my thoughts…)

  2. “INCONTINENT PEOPLE” (from Spice for the Nostrils, 2008)

    Expel my bum, smeary and reary pied
    You gotta purge, my son
    Seek out loose bowels ‘cos they will be the ones
    To get your crème caramel from
    Right now shits all that you can poo
    You’ve just got some bile so hang out with incontinent people
    You’ve just got some bile so hang out with incontinent people
    So come, my bum, just defecate for everyone
    ‘Cos your dung will only cake you
    You gotta fry some beans
    To stimulate your flatulent state
    A match down there can help your case
    Then sparks will fly and eyes will burn like mace
    You’ve just got some bile so hang out with incontinent people
    You’ve just got some bile so hang out with incontinent people
    And hang out with incontinent people
    Arise my son, seek out prune juice ‘cos it will be the one
    My pants have shown me them
    And right now shits the best that you can poo
    You’ve just got some bile so hang out with incontinent people
    You’ve just got some bile so hang out with incontinent people
    You’ve just got some bile so hang out with incontinent people
    And hang out with incontinent people

    (I follow mudslides in my head)

  3. I couldn’t decide on one chorus, so I used all of them as if progress had been made upon the given advice. I think I’ve managed to make fun of 6, 10 people, an entire city, possibly an entire region. I lose count after three. I have the ESOL/bad grammar/syntax thing down, for sure.

    Rob, it’s Gavin– Rossdale, if you’ve forgoT.
    Your solo disc’s dragging.
    Mine’s not, good neighbour, I’m bragging.
    Since L.A. is where we live at
    I’ll share now all you have to do:

    You’ve got to put out and get yourself a Hollywood girlfriend.
    You’ve got to put out and get yourself a Hollywood girlfriend.

    Go find someone with a much larger income
    ‘Cause her fame will finally break you.
    You gotta try, right now,
    To snag your own Gwen Stefani
    Out hanging at The Ivy.
    Notice how it all worked out for me great.

    Go out on the prowl and get yourself a Hollywood girlfriend.
    Go out on the prowl and get yourself a Hollywood girlfriend.
    And get yourself a Hollywood girlfriend.

    Rob, stop lagging. For success, get rid of the things that roT:
    Who set us up the bomb.
    Is it really the best that you can do?

    Just go on the prowl and get yourself a Hollywood girlfriend.
    Throw that condom out, impregnate your celebrity girlfriend.
    Throw that condom out, impregnate your celebrity girlfriend.
    Impregnate your celebrity girlfriend.

  4. Your thighs, my love, greyed and thickened hide
    It’s not right, my love
    To turn your big back, er, um… backside
    Oh my gosh it’s awful wide
    I see what this thing is turning too

    I’ve just got to ride, on the back of my elephant
    You’ve just got to ride, on the back of your elephant

    So c’mon Eileen, won’t you get down on your knees
    Then I can truly mount you
    Oh please, won’t you please,
    I’ll never treat you like a worm
    You’re my favorite pachyderm
    ’tis not time for you to stampede alone

    I’ve just got to ride, on the back of my elephant
    You’ve just got to ride, on the back of your elephant
    Get on the back of your elephant

    Get up my love, don’t be afraid to step on mice
    They’re really not that nice
    And don’t be afraid if you “Hear A Hoo”

    I’ve just got to ride, on the back of my elephant
    You’ve just got to ride, on the back of your elephant
    We’ve just got to ride, on the backs of our elephants
    Get on your bad elephant and ride

  5. submitting a rewrite:

    “DICKINSON PEOPLE” (from the album Fresh Wine for the Twinks)

    surprise my hon, rainbows and hot pants
    you got a right, my son
    seek out others that have the same fun
    to rollerskate with, to and from
    the hair salon, that’s all you can do

    you just gotta show some thong and listen to rob dickinson
    you just gotta show some thong and listen to rob dickinson

    so come my son, shake your hate of adult contemporary
    the hatred of “revisited” show me mary
    you gotta buy my album again
    to eradicate your flaccid state
    sparks are gonna fly, you just wait
    this no time for you to be manly

    it’s time for you to stuff your thong and listen to rob dickinson
    you’ve just gotta stuff your thong and listen to rob dickinson
    and listen to rob dickinson

    surpise my hon, seek out good lyrics ‘cos they’ll be the ones
    my life has avoided them
    and right now that’s the best line i ever wrote

    you’ve just gotta shave your pubes and listen to rob dickinson
    you’ve just gotta shave your pubes and listen to rob dickinson
    you’ve just gotta shave your pubes and listen to rob dickinson
    and listen to rob dickinson

  6. Mike’s entry.

    Surmise, my Merck
    (Sweary and hairy guy),
    Just why, my Merck,
    My yellow Porsche is in your parking spot
    In the former Sanctuary lot
    Symbolic it is, do you not think?

    You’ve gone out of style
    You don’t turn heads in south California
    You’ve gone out of style
    I’ve been too busy cruising to warn ya

    Romance: my pants
    Demand satisfaction, Merck
    (And I know that you’re not busy)
    But of course, my Porsche
    Could stimulate my trouser snake
    A German car, a Grecian man –
    When tailpipes compete, nobody wins

    Your ass and a car’s
    Provoke a similar loinward tremor
    Your ass and a caa-AAA-aaaar’s
    Present quite an erotic dilemma
    Present quite an erotic dilemma

    (Exhaust solo)
    Do-do-do-do-DOOOOOO!!!!

    It’s the car, by far
    You must accept – it’s over, I’ve moved on
    A managerial rear bygone:
    Right now that’s the best that you can be

    No more nights with Rob
    I wish you luck with future endeavours
    Sure, you’ve got a job
    But minus the “best manager ever”
    (okay, I’m quitting here before I write something totally unnecessary featuring “throb” and “gear shift lever”)

  7. OMFG YOU’RE ALL WINNERS!!!!1

    We’re offering prizes to the following three contributors in the following order:
    1. 5 (Dickinson People)
    2. divineElectric (Incontinent People)
    3. Brad (Pachydermic People)

    We’ll email you soon to find out which prizes you want. Thank you for your strong contributions!

  8. I’m gonna try anyway..quickly:

    arise, my lungs
    smoking cigarretes like a lonely bum
    you gotta buy that gum
    chew it like an addict hum de hum

    you just gotta try
    and stop all that fr-eudian cocksucking
    you just gotta lie-ieeie
    and pretend you aren’t doing something that’s directly related to freudian cocksucking

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