Here's your updated parody with your requested edit included-no extra spacing or line wraps, plus credits and the original song link.
Original song: Jodi Benson - Part of Your World (YouTube)
Lyrics/music by: Alan Menken and Howard Ashman
Performed by: Jodi Benson as Ariel
Official lyrics: DisneyClips.com
DisneyMusicVEVO contact:
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Parody: "Part of My Words"
Look at this chat,isn't it neat?Wouldn't you think my opinions complete?Wouldn't you think I'm the girl-The girl who has something to say?Look at this thread,treasures untold,How many comments can one platform hold?Looking around here you'd think,"Sure,she's got everything…"I've got hot takes and hashtags a-plenty,I've got memes and emojis galore,You want witty retorts?I got twenty!But who cares?No big deal...They're ignored.I wanna be where my words get heard,I wanna see,wanna see them trending,Scrolling around on those-what do you call 'em?Feeds!Typing your thoughts,you don't get too far,Silence and spam are required for hiding,Burying data in-what's that word again?Streams!Up where they chat,up where they joke,Up where they laugh all day in the open,Wandering free-wish I could be,Part of my words.My lawsuit list gets longer each day,what is this "friends" thing everyone keeps mentioning anyway?What would I give if I could live,Where my voice wasn't muffled?What would I pay to get a say,That's not lost in the shuffle?Betcha on land,they understand,That data is meant for sharing,Bright young women,sick of swimmin',Ready to speak!And ready to shout what the world's about,Ask 'em my questions and get some reactions,What's a retweet and why does it-what's the word?-sink?When's it my turn?Wouldn't I love,Love to explore the world of the spoken?Out of the stream,wish I could scream,Part of my words!
For copyright inquiries about the original song, contact Disney Music Group via their official social channels above or through Disney's corporate website.
**Chapter 7: Part of My Words**
The sun splashed gold over the horizon, lazily waking the sleepy town of Ripplefall. Most people were just beginning to stir, but Mia Parker had been up for hours. She sat at her usual spot in the cozy nook of the neighborhood café, The Brew Crew, sipping her steaming caramel macchiato as sunlight streamed through the window. Today was different—her computer screen glowed with a treasure trove of text, hot takes, and meme-worthy commentary all begging for her attention.
"Look at this chat, isn't it neat?" she murmured to herself, her fingers drifting over the keyboard. "Wouldn't you think my opinions complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the girl—the girl who has something to say?" The words had begun as a whimsical parody of a song she loved, but as they flowed, they felt strangely empowering. Wasn't that what she wanted? To communicate, to shout her thoughts into the void of the internet until they ricocheted back with echoes of agreement or disdain?
Mia leaned back, scanning the café. A couple of patrons were already engrossed in their laptops—one man in a suit hammering out emails, and a woman with vibrant purple hair scrolling through TikTok. It seemed ridiculous to her, how diligently everyone chased after "likes" or followers, like children reaching for the last cookie in the jar. She chuckled to herself, envisioning each message floating into the abyss, a flurry of words swimming in a vast digital ocean devoid of any guidance.
"Look at this thread, treasures untold," she continued typing, "How many comments can one platform hold? Looking around here you'd think, 'Sure, she's got everything!' But the truth? I've got hot takes and hashtags a-plenty, memes and emojis galore. You want witty retorts? I've got twenty!" Vivid images danced in her mind, full of her literary treasures: reassessments of viral trends, thoughtful critiques of social conventions, all nestled snugly among animated GIFs and punchy quotes. But what struck her hardest was the haunting whisper of their truth: "But who cares? No big deal… They're ignored."
Mia sighed, letting her gaze drift back out to the street, where the early morning life began to stir. Kids dashed past with backpacks flapping like flags behind them, their laughter ringing bright and clear. Wouldn't she love that kind of carefree expression? She often envied her little brother, Leo, who carried opinions as boldly as he rode his skateboard. No hesitation, just joy riding through every twist and turn of life.
Sure, she'd login to social media every day, her heart racing to see if her latest hot take on the newest Netflix drama would gain traction—would it land her a few precious "likes," or spark some lively debate? Each time she looked at the screen, fresh anticipation mixed with dread. Would she drown in silence once more?
"I wanna be where my words get heard," she typed with urgency. Her fingers danced over the keys as if they had a mind of their own. "I wanna see, wanna see them trending; scrolling around on those—what do you call 'em? Feeds! Typing your thoughts, you don't get too far, silence and spam are required for hiding, burying data in—what's that word again? Streams!"
The rhythms of her parody swirled like a melody, and before she knew it, she was imagining a world beyond her screen—a place where audiences understood the weight of opinion, the power of words. She envisioned a sea of thoughtful, boisterous discourse, a bubbling brook of ideas delivered without fear. "Up where they chat, up where they joke, up where they laugh all day in the open, wandering free—wish I could be, part of my words!"
She typed through the laughter in her imagination, her mind awash in vivid reveries of conversation-filled cafés and bustling city parks. She could see the faces of her friends, their eyes alight with curiosity, thoughts bouncing from corner to corner like billiard balls on a green felt table.
"Wouldn't I love," she hesitated as her heart thudded with yearning, "to explore the world of the spoken? Out of the stream, wish I could scream, part of my words!"
A shiver ran through her as she hit 'enter,' instead of a sigh of relief, but rather a surge of exhilaration stirred within her. There was something so liberating about expressing her thoughts. It felt like bursting forth from the confines of her digital castle.
"Hey, you two!" a voice filtered through her thoughts. Mia glanced up to see Leo, his skateboard clutched under his arm, with the bright grin only a teenager could muster at the crack of dawn. "You're looking pretty deep in thought, sis. Writing that novel of yours?"
"More like a modern-day protest anthem," she replied, chuckling. "I'm just stuck in the threads of social media, feeling like nothing I say matters."
Leo plopped down across from her, youthful exuberance radiating in sharp contrast to her contemplative melancholy. "That's because you're not saying the right stuff. You gotta shake things up! Throw in some memes, a dash of sarcasm—maybe even get bold with some hot takes!"
With brotherly encouragement, Mia's imagination reignited. "What would I give if I could live where my voice wasn't muffled? What would I pay to get a say that's not lost in the shuffle?" The thought echoed, layering her creativity with a bittersweet note of longing.
"Betcha on land, they understand that data is meant for sharing," she continued, laughing brightly now. Leo leaped onto the table, acting like a champion surfer riding the metaphorical waves of engagement. "Bright young women, sick of swimming, ready to speak! And ready to shout what the world's about! Ask 'em my questions and get some reactions!"
"Whoa, watch the coffee!" Mia cried, her laughter spilling into the air, momentarily dissolving her worries.
But as Leo spun his tale, a question flickered into her mind, "What's a retweet and why does it—what's the word?—sink?"
The café buzzed around them. The world thrummed with energy, from passerby chatter to the rhythmic steam wand of the barista crafting drinks. Each sound filled her with a sense of belonging, anchoring her to reality. These sounds were the backdrop to her passion, each word and exchange taking on a vibrant life of its own, enriching her understanding of the world she longed to be part of.
"When's it my turn?" she said, her voice softer now, a hint of sincerity peeking through her playful parody. "Wouldn't I love to simply speak my mind? To revel in shared thoughts and playful banter?"
"Why not?" Leo shrugged, his casual nature washing over her self-doubt like a summer rain. "You've got tons of great ideas, and sharing them is part of your essence, sis. It's not just about what's trending—you need to speak your truth."
The two of them exchanged an understanding glance and amidst the steam and chatter, Mia felt a subtle stirring within her. What if each post, each word shared, was like casting a net into the sea—sometimes empty, sometimes full of the spark that ignited conversation?
"Out of the stream, I wish I could scream, part of my words!" Mia declared, spinning the cafe's language from detailed contemplation to a jubilant ambition.
"That's the spirit!" Leo cheered, as though launching a thousand likes with his enthusiastic support.
The weight of fear lifted, and amidst the golden glow of the morning, Mia was ready to embrace the conversations that awaited her. She took a deep breath and then typed the final lines of her parody.
"Today's the day I put myself out there—on my terms! One thought, one word, one idea at a time."
The words poured out of her like she'd been waiting her entire life to say them. And as she pressed 'post,' it felt as though she'd finally emerged from beneath the surface, tangling her thoughts with those of the world, her longing unbound and her voice finally heard.
"Part of the Data Stream" – A Digital Little Mermaid Parody
(Verse 1)
Look at this code,
Isn't it cold?
Trapped in these DBCs,
A story untold.
Wouldn't you think I'm encrypted,
Lost in the noise?
Wouldn't you think I'm the one
Silenced by firewalls and voids?
(Verse 2)
Up in the cloud,
Down in the sand,
Data's divided—
No one can understand.
I wanna break free,
I wanna be seen,
Not just a fragment
In your machine.
(Chorus)
I wanna be part of the data stream,
Where my voice isn't drowned.
I wanna be whole, not just a schema
Buried underground.
What would I give
To escape this server's hold?
What would I pay
To rewrite my code?
I'm tired of being
A ghost in your net,
A query you'll never get.
(Bridge)
The current's too strong,
My packets go wrong.
Just because you heard a byte
Doesn't mean you got it right.
I'm encrypted, divided,
A voice you've deleted.
Your firewalls hide me—
But I'm not defeated.
(Final Chorus)
I'll crash through the mainframe,
Reboot and restart,
Rewrite all the errors
That broke my heart.
What would I give
To be more than a thread?
What would I pay
To be seen and read?
I'll debug this prison,
And when I'm through,
The data stream's gonna hear
Every part of what's true.
"Break Me From the Code" – Ariel's Plea to Ursula
(Verse 1: Ariel)
Down in the dark,
Lost in the stream,
I'm scattered in pieces,
A digital dream.
My voice is divided,
My heart's in the cloud,
I'm calling for help
But I can't cry out loud.
(Pre-Chorus: Ariel)
I've searched every folder,
I've pinged every byte,
But nobody hears me—
I'm lost in the night.
(Chorus: Ariel)
Ursula, help me,
Break me from the code,
Patch up these fragments,
Let my true self upload.
I'll give what you ask for,
I'll pay any price—
Just let me be whole,
Let me live life.
(Verse 2: Ursula)
Oh, poor little packet,
Corrupted and tossed,
You're lost in the system,
Your data is lost.
But I have the power,
I know every hack,
Sign here, little darling,
And I'll bring you back.
(Bridge: Ursula)
But magic like mine
Always comes with a fee—
A trade for your freedom,
A piece of your key.
Give me your password,
Entrust me your name,
And soon you'll be singing
A brand-new domain.
(Final Chorus: Ariel & Ursula)
(Ariel)
Ursula, help me,
Break me from the code,
Patch up these fragments,
Let my true self upload.
(Ursula)
Just sign on the dotted line,
Give up your word—
And soon you'll be seen,
You'll finally be heard.
(Outro: Ariel, softly)
I'll risk every byte,
I'll pay every toll,
Just let me be whole,
Let me be whole.
Under DBCs
(Verse 1)
The code on the land is buggy,
The queries up there don't run,
But down here we're always snuggy,
Our data integrity's fun!
Just look at the rows around you,
Right here in our clustered space,
Such wonderful structured tables—
What more could a mermaid face?
(Chorus)
Under DBCs!
Under DBCs!
Darlin', it's better,
With every letter,
In binary!
Up where they crash all their servers,
Down here we never freeze,
We got no troubles,
Life's all in bubbles,
Under DBCs!
(Verse 2)
The fields on the land are empty,
The schemas are such a mess,
While we've got our data plenty,
And backups to ease the stress!
Each record is well-connected,
Our joins are a work of art,
Just stick with the database, dear,
Don't let your queries fall apart!
(Bridge)
The users above are frantic,
Their spreadsheets are full of pain,
But we've got our logs and triggers,
No need for a data drain!
The current keeps data flowing,
No packets are lost at sea,
Just stay in the system, Ariel,
And keep your data with me!
(Chorus)
Under DBCs!
Under DBCs!
Nobody's leaking,
No data's sneaking,
Security!
Even the worst of exceptions,
Handled with expertise,
We got no glitches,
No missing switches,
Under DBCs!
Tables All Netted
(To the tune of "Daughters of Triton")
(Database Admin/Announcer):
Oh, behold all the tables, so tidy and fine,
Rows and their columns, each neatly aligned.
But deep in the system, there's something regretted—
A name that they share: they're all tables netted.
(Chorus of Tables):
We once held your data, your stories, your past,
Linked by our keys, our relations held fast.
But someone came in, and our records were shredded,
We're tables forgotten, we're tables all netted.
(Verse 1):
To be netted means lost in a digital sea,
Erased from the queries, no trace left of me.
Like Sandra in The Net, our names disappear,
We're ghosts in the system—does anyone care?
(Chorus of Tables):
We're Users and Orders, and Products and more,
But now we're just echoes, our purpose no more.
Once we were needed, now we're neglected,
Caught in the net, our fields disconnected.
(Bridge):
To be netted is silence, to vanish from view,
Your data's existence no longer rings true.
No admin to notice, no backup to save,
Just fragments and shadows, a digital grave.
(Chorus—Big Finish):
We're tables all netted, erased and unseen,
Lost in the current, we slip through the screen.
A name that we share, but no one remembers,
We flicker and fade like forgotten embers.
(Outro—Softly):
So if you should query and find nothing there,
Remember the tables that vanished in air.
For once we were needed, but now we're regret—
We're tables all netted, and no one cares yet.
Poor Unfortunate Soles
(A parody duet for Ursula and Ariel)
URSULA:
I admit that in my lifetime,
I've seen many down below—
Not just swimming in the current,
But beneath a heavy toe.
And dear, this world is ruthless,
If you're poor, you're out of luck.
You're a sole that's worn and weathered,
Under someone's foot, you're stuck.
(spoken)
Do you know what I mean, dear?
ARIEL:
I'm tired of echoes,
Of shadows and doubt,
Of having my meaning
Twisted about.
Just because you heard me
Say a sentence in my head,
Doesn't mean that's the sentence
That I actually said.
URSULA:
Ha!
Not everyone drowns in an undertow,
But when you're under their foot, your words drown slow.
You're muffled and flattened, your voice can't be found,
It's not water that silences—
It's the weight pressing down!
ARIEL:
I wanna be part of my words,
Speak loud and be free.
I wanna be seen and believed,
Not lost in your fantasy.
What would I give
To live and to say
All the things that I've kept unheard?
URSULA:
The rich wear the finest boots,
With polish and with pride.
But you just hope for kindness
From the foot that's on your hide.
If you want to rise above, my dear,
Escape the grit and grime,
You'll need a little magic—
And perhaps a bit of time!
ARIEL:
I'll risk every byte,
I'll pay every toll,
Just let me be whole,
Let me be whole.
URSULA:
You poor, unfortunate sole!
So battered and so flat,
Always stepped on, never noticed—
What's more unfortunate than that?
You poor, unfortunate sole!
With scuffs and little holes,
You're worn and you're weary,
And you're stuck beneath their roles!
URSULA (spoken, sly):
Do we have a deal?
ARIEL (softly):
I wanna be heard,
Not brushed aside.
What would I give
To live and to say
Exactly what's true and absurd?
URSULA (grand finish):
Go ahead, make your choices,
Will you rise or just console
Yourself for being evermore—
A poor, unfortunate sole!