PASTICHE, including PARODY-LYRICS: (Pastiche implies the use of several sources, even several art-forms, as a vehicle for the parody)

PARODY COMPOSED: Giorgio Coniglio, 2001 and 2014.
You can view these lyrics and commentary displayed on a parody-lyrics website at AmIRight.com Post "Trailerparky"
You can view these lyrics and commentary displayed on a parody-lyrics website at AmIRight.com Post "Trailerparky"
UKULELE and GUITAR-FRIENDLY LINK: Our whole series of songs can be found in a friendly format for ukulele (and guitar)-players on our sister blog "SILLY SONGS and SATIRE" with chord-charts for both the parody and original song, as well as helpful performing suggestions.
To find ukulele chord-charts to help you accompany "TRAILERPARKY" on your favorite instrument, click HERE.
The protagonist of this pseudo-medieval tale acted as treasurer of a de facto condominium involving 25 cottage properties at the northern edge of Lake Erie, in the Township of Malahide (yes!). Drama developed when the owner of a large adjacent shorefront property, under financial duress, threatened to sell a portion of his land (which included a sizable 'frog-pond') for a trailerpark development.
TRAILERPARKY
( to the tune of "Greensleeves")
'Twas April, and the faulty stoves
Were piled beside the sagging gate;
All fish-flied were the poplar groves,
With plumbing opened late.
The johns that flush! porch swings that glide!
Beware E. coli counts, and shun
Approvious Malahide !"
At 'condo, sort-of' heads they shook:
Long floating loan-forms he prepares -
So co-signed he, with the Private Three
At the Bank of M upstairs.
And as the roadway bills he paid
The drained Cement-and-Gravel Way
Back tax! back tax! the Feds they forced
The neighbour's plans deflated twice !
He played his hand, and copped the land
At a freshly garnished price.
And hast thou bought the Marshy-Flats ?
Come to the Tuck-Shop brunch !", they voice.
"Mosquito breeds, O Noxious Weeds !
But we have no other choice."
'Twas August, and the slant-cut poles
Were tied and turgid by the gate:
All pansied were the Old-road's holes,
By autumn, at the condo's shore
Did tires the tree-drift beach retread;
All frogsy was OUR pond, and for
The moment books out-red.
And this is why few snowbird here,
Valve-closed or winter-watering,
'Though sludge is filtered from the lake,








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