O Singer! My Singer!
O singer! my singer! Your tour is almost done
Your single made top forty, your album's gone platinum
The stage is set, and you can bet your show will be a great one
The fans wait for you to appear, all wishing you would date one
But o no! no! no!
Not what we came to meet,
For on the stage my singer stands,
His voice does not ring sweet.
O singer! my singer! Rise up upon the stage;
Rise up-- for you the flyer's hung--your name upon the page,
For you the bright and blinding lights--for you the people screaming,
For you they call, the die-hard fans, future musicians dreaming;
Here singer! performer!
This stage beneath your feet!
It is some dream that at your show,
Your voice does not ring sweet.
My singer does not make a sound, his mic shakes in his hands,
My singer can not move at all, he's frozen where he stands,
The tour is only one show short of ending for the year
This is to be the best show yet and so the people cheer
Be glad while you can, dear young fans!
But I sit in my seat
For on the stage my singer stands,
His voice does not ring sweet.
That was my parody of "O Captain! My Captain!" by Walt Whitman, one of the gretest poets to ever live. If you haven't read it, check it out here. http://www.bartleby.com/142/193.html