Inspired by comments at Mir’s about classic rock and earworms and stuff. And this is a little too graphic to leave in her comments so I’m posting it here with a trackback. I have a little (very little) taste. To the tune of You’re so Vain, and written/sung by Pinkard and Bowden:

You walked into your bedroom, like you were walking into a fog
Your hand strategically wrapped around your gun, you were emotionally sick as a dog
You had one thumb on the trigger as you gazed into the bore
Now all the band knows that they’ll need a partner, they’ll need a partner, and

(chorus): Kurt Cobain, they’ll probably do the next one without you
Kurt Cobain (Co-bain), I’ll bet they do the next one without you, don’t shoot, don’t shoot!

You could have tried this several years ago, when you were still in your teens
Oh, but NOOOO, you had to go and bore us all with your flannels and worn-out jeans
But you gave up way too soon my friend, you could have learned how to sing
You had some dreams, now there’s brains in your cornflakes, brains in your cornflakes, and

(chorus)

Well, I heard you would shoot up with heroin, I guess you were naturally dumb
And you drank yourself into a coma, cause you were totally sick of the grunge
But your mom said, “Son, don’t join that club, with Hendrix and all the rest”
But you had the nerve and a round in the chamber, round in the chamber, and

(chorus)

Who’s gonna clean up the couch and the carpet, couch and the carpet?, and

(chorus)