And now the fun begins! Here's three parodies of Nick songs. I was wondering when this would start. Now that this page is here, please be sure to send your parodies to me. Be sure to check out the parodies done by Mark and Lard of Britain's Radio One.

Table of Contents:

• Into My Arms
• The Good Hun
• Long Time Fan
• Sad Cyberwaters

Into My Arms

Nick's version is also available.

I don't believe in interventionalist therapy
But I know, darling, that you do
But if I did, I would ring the dealers and ask them
To intervene, and hook you too
Well to give you smack for free
Load you full of crack and tea
And now that we're both addicts,
That needle is a key

Into our arms, so pure
Into our arms, our cure
Into our arms, put more
Into our arms

And I don't believe in the existance of angels
But looking at you I wonder if that's true
But if I did I would summon them together
And ask them to legalize you
Or at least make you much much cheaper
So I don't have to steal TVs
And I'll walk to the alley, roll up my sleeves
And guide you into my arms

Into our arms, so pure
Into our arms, our cure
Into our arms, put more
Into our arms

But I'm relieved by junk
And I know that you sniff glue
And I believe in some kind of path
Scarring our arms up me and you
So keep your spoons a'burning
And make her journey bright and pure
And hope she'll keep returning
Always and evermore
Into our arms, so pure
Into our arms, a cure
Into our arms, put more
Into our arms

Courtesy of Col Wallace, third verse by Katherine

Table of Contents

The Good Hun

Nick's version is also available.

One more land gone
One more land gone
One more land...

One more land gone
One more land gone
One more land is gone...

The Good Hun rode into the fields
He is Attila, he has a great big axe
Thinkin' bout movin' westwards
He's making invasion plans
Against the Romans, and against the Belgians

Yet he conquered the Ostragoths
And defeated the Visigoths
But it's Pope Leo, he says, is a spoil-sport man

The Good Hun
The Good Hun
The Good Hun etc...

Courtesy of Greg O'Beirne

Table of Contents

Long Time Fan

Nick's version is also available.

Oh, plane, take me away.
Said, I'll be sittin' here for the rest of my life
and I am really scared-- Nick's not coming tonight.

And brother, I can't even think of a reason why...

Oh it makes a long time fan feel bad
Yeah, it makes a long time fan feel bad

Well, I ain't had no Nick since I don't know when
It sure makes a long time fan feel bad

It was back in Jacksonville
Cold windy night
my friends and I-- we began to like
that black-haired guy
and we grabbed our tickets...
ooooh. I get so cold on those nights we were waiting to buy tickets....
and we would listen to him right there on the kitchen floor
we'd look at one another and begin to smile
His gaspin' words...
"From her.. to eternity"
and we'd imagine those baby blue eyes

Oh, makes along time fan feel bad
uuuh, yeah it makes a long time fan feel bad
I ain't had no Nick since I don't know when..
it sure makes along time fan feel bad
yeah, makes a long time fan feel bad

Yeaaaah, yeah makes a fan feel so bad
Sometimes I hear your religious voice in the dead of the night

makes a long time fan feel bad
yeaaah, makes a long time fan feel bad
mmmmmmmm, yeah. FEEEEL BAD, bad

I ain't had that crowd around me
I ain't had that Nick, that Nick around me

It sure makes a long time fan feel bad, so bad
It sure makes a long time fan feel bad
Makes a long time fan feel bad, so bad....

Courtesy of Zoo Music Girl: "Here's a little something I wrote while thinking about the sad possibility that Nick will not visit the States..." (for the summer of 1997)

Table of Contents

Sad Cyberwaters

Nick's version is also available.

Down the row of mails I look, and there waits Mary
Emails of gold with words so daring
We go down to the list where goodsonners weep
Take a Happy99 worm for a lovers' seat
That rose out of the beaten threads
Bound to Rob's mail as he and Ed butt heads
O Mary you have seduced my mind
(And I don't know truth from lie)
Forever a hostage of your cyberworld.

And then I freed my bird metaphors
Into the prison of her ribs
And with three taps of her fingers
That little girl goes wading in
Rolling her sleeves up past her elbows
Turning these flamewars into smiles
Then she silenced all the non-NC bile.

Mary in cyberspace laughing
Over where the Mute sons lurk
Spooked by the new shadows that she cast
Across these sad threads and upon my work...

Courtesy of Charles, while contemplating a... proposal?

Table of Contents