1657 lines
48 KiB
Plaintext
1657 lines
48 KiB
Plaintext
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FFFFF I L K K fffff i l eeeee
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F I L K K f i l e
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FFFF I L KK ffff i l eeee
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F I L K K f i l e
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F I LLLLLL K K f i llllll eeeee
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TWELVE
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----------------------------------------------------------------
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The twelfth compilation of filksongs collected from the FILK Echo
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and provided for download via the auspices of Kay Shapero, moder-
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ator of same. Publication date, January 1992. All copyrights
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belong to the writers.
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FILKfile appears at irregular intervals of a month or more,
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depending on how many songs appear on the echo (and how much time
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I have to compile this thing....)
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----------------------------------------------------------------
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"12-Bar Filkin' Blues"
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by Jim Edmonds
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I think Muddie Murcury did one way back in the early 90's:
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I got twits in mah echo
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I got bugs in ma beer
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Say got twits in ma echo
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I got bugs in ma beer
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An' this thred makes ma heart weary
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Sho' be buggin filkers round here.
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I'm a lonesome lil' sysop
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Hang in ma 'drasiltree
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I'm a lonely lil' sysop
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Hangin ma 'drasiltree
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An' dees twitters keep on yakkin'
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Lawd know's dey sho' be bodduh me.
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Cause I'm eville, honey dahlin
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Eville as the dragonne's bones
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O I'm eville, metal pumpkin
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Eville as the day is lawng
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Don' be messin' roun' with me baybah
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I'm eville as ma filkin' sawng.
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(Or something like that.)
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****
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ATEN MAN
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Words: Ioseph of Locksley
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Tune: "Irish Soldier Laddie"
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CHORUS: Will you stand in the van like a true Aten man
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||
And hold the line for Kingdom and for Crown?
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Will you fight and never yield on Estrella's battlefield?
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||
For today's the day we're takin' Caid down!
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||
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As I stood in a crowd I saw a valiant laddie walkin'
|
||
With his armour and his sword down a quiet country lane
|
||
He smiled and he waved and he bespoke me truly
|
||
He beckoned and he called to me by name:
|
||
|
||
On a quiet village street stood a bowman strong and hearty
|
||
As he bade a fond farewell to his pretty peasant lass
|
||
And his eyes were flashin' bright as he bent his head and kissed
|
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her
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And these words he said beneath the partin' glass:
|
||
|
||
Came a knight upon his steed, with his squires ridin' after
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With his pennon and his lance and his shinin' silver mail
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||
With his Lady's Favour hangin' from his belt of leather
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And passin' close he smiled and bade me "Hail!"
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In a sunny castle hall, with her minstrels and her maidens,
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Stood a Lady, strong and proud, with a fire in her eyes
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"If my King is off to war, what can I but fight beside him?"
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She raised her sword, and shouted to the skies:
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From city and from township, from Barony and Marches
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Come the men of Aten's land with a fire in their eyes
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Atenveldt and Loch Sallan, Mons Tinitrus and SunDragon,
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And a hundred thousand others 'neath the sky!
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words (c) copyright 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III
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****
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The Bug Came Back
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Words: Joel Polowin
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Tune: Music: "The Cat Came Back"
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The program wasn't complex, and it wasn't very long,
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Though it seemed a bit erratic, its results were seldom wrong.
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But that little error nagged us, so we stayed up late one night -
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Found a missing comma, and we thought that fixed it right -
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(Chorus:)
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But the bug came back, the very next day
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The bug came back, we thought it was a gonner
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But the bug came back, it just wouldn't stay away.
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We put away our documents, rewrote the code from scratch
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To find out where the new and older versions didn't match.
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A subtle shift of logic showed where we had gone astray;
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We felt a bit embarrassed, but at least it ran okay -
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(Chorus)
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|
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We wrote in other languages, from FORTH to APL
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And ev'ry one ran ev'ry time - just sometimes not too well.
|
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Translation to assembler didn't give us any clue;
|
||
The COBOL version crashed on ev'ry system it went through -
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||
|
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(Chorus)
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|
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We gave it to the hacker squad - the folks who code for fun -
|
||
And asked them if they couldn't get the stupid thing to run.
|
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But less than one week later, they no longer wished to play -
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||
Three paranoids... one suicide... and six who ran away...
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(Chorus)
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|
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We got a summer student in to check the code by hand,
|
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With paper, pen and calculator, run through each command,
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But suddenly the lights went out -- the air went thin and queer
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--
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A sudden FLASH! of lightning -- and the student... disappeared..?
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(Chorus)
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|
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(Last verse and associated alternate chorus are optional:)
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|
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We set up an experiment that Schrodinger inspired:
|
||
A box; a cat; some poison; a computer system wired
|
||
Such that IF the program failed, the little moggy would be
|
||
gassed.
|
||
A quasar was - almost - the only remnant of the blast...
|
||
|
||
But the cat came back the very next day
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The bug came back, we thought they were a gonner
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But they both came back, they just wouldn't stay away
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---------------
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Words copyright (C) 1991 by Joel Polowin. Permission is hereby
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||
granted to reproduce this material in any non-profit medium pro-
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vided that its content is not altered and that this notice is
|
||
appended. I would appreciate receiving a copy of any publication
|
||
in which it appears: Joel Polowin / 205 Toronto St. / Kingston,
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Ontario / CANADA / K7L 4A9 polowin@silicon.chem.QueensU.CA,
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polowinj@qucdn.QueensU.CA
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||
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****
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COLD WARRIOR'S LAMENT
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words:Dr Pepper
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Tune: My Bonnie
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My commies lie fallen around me
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||
I think it's a terrible shame
|
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Cause now if the world should confound me
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I have no more commies to blame
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Chorus:
|
||
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Bring back, bring back,
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O bring back my commies to me, to me!
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Bring back, bring back,
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O bring back my commies to me!
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||
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||
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The war factory bosses are crying
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I think they have lost their aplomb
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Sell more weapons? there's no use in trying
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||
Without any commies to bomb
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Chorus
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||
The third world right wing despots tell me
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Their death squads are fighting a threat
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But how do they think they can sell me?
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||
Their commie excuse is all wet
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Chorus
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||
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Last night as i lay on my pillow
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A brand new spy novel i read
|
||
About. japanese. stealing a patent...
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||
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||
The world as i knew it is dead!
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||
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Chorus
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||
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||
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||
My ideological fervor
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||
Has outlived its purpose i fear
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||
I thought this would go on forever
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Fidel, let me buy you a beer!
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Chorus
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words copyright Dr Pepper, 1991
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****
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CONFRANCISCO
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||
Words: Dr Pepper
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||
Tune: "Are you going to San Francisco"
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||
If you're going to Confrancisco
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||
Be sure to wear a tribble in your hair
|
||
If you're going to Confrancisco
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||
You're gonna meet some freaky people there
|
||
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||
For when you go to Confrancisco
|
||
Watch out for people floating in mid air
|
||
In the halls of Confrancisco
|
||
Fen in costume who don't care if you stare
|
||
|
||
All across the fandom
|
||
Plans get changed at random
|
||
Such a commotion (mmm) Such a commotion
|
||
It's a whole convocation
|
||
With it's own affectation
|
||
Such a commotion (mmm) Such a commotion
|
||
|
||
If you're going to Confrancisco
|
||
Be sure to wear a tribble in your hair
|
||
If you come to Confrancisco
|
||
All your time will be bizarre and rare
|
||
|
||
(other suitable words can be substituted for tribble. Like trif-
|
||
fid, sandworm, tardis, dragon, etc)
|
||
|
||
words copyright Dr Pepper, 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
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||
CTHULU LOVES
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||
Words: Farrell McGovern
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||
Tune: Jesus Loves the Little Children
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||
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||
Cthulu loves the little children
|
||
All the Children of the World
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||
Red and Yellow, Black and White
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||
They make Equal Sacrifice!
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||
Cthulu loves the little children of the World...
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||
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||
words copyright Farrell McGovern 1991
|
||
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||
****
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DUELING HERALDS
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||
Words: Ioseph of Locksley
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||
Tune: "Dueling Banjos"
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||
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||
This takes the form of a duet between two Heralds.....
|
||
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||
My Lords and Ladies, pray attend
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||
(My Lords and Ladies, pray attend)
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||
Hush your speech and pray forfend!
|
||
|
||
(Hush your speech and pray forfend!)
|
||
From interrupting Royal Court!
|
||
(From interrupting Royal Court!)
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||
We'll truly try to keep this short!
|
||
(We'll truly try to keep this short!)
|
||
His Majesty
|
||
(His Majesty)
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||
Wishes Me
|
||
(Wishes Me)
|
||
To announce announcements to you all
|
||
(To announce announcements to you all)
|
||
To attend His Presence in this Hall
|
||
(To attend His Presence in this Hall)
|
||
|
||
[together to "Yankee Doodle" theme:]
|
||
His Majesty commands you all
|
||
Draw nigh and pray attend....for....
|
||
|
||
[single herald sings:]
|
||
|
||
Please remember leave the site as clean as clean can be
|
||
[And do not] smoke within the Hall, for it's not period, you see
|
||
[And try to] speak forsoothly to the gentles partying tonight
|
||
[For we're the] SCA, and we're the ones who try to get it right!
|
||
|
||
My Lords and Ladies, pray attend
|
||
(My Lords and Ladies, pray attend)
|
||
We as Heralds condescend
|
||
(We as Heralds condescend)
|
||
To blazon forth the finest Arms
|
||
(To blazon forth the finest Arms)
|
||
That ever graced a Kingdom's charms
|
||
(That ever graced a Kingdom's charms)
|
||
Cheqy bendy plumetty
|
||
(Cheqy bendy plumetty)
|
||
Gyronny!
|
||
(Arondy!)
|
||
I believe, sir, you have got it wrong!
|
||
(But that's how Locksley wrote the song!)
|
||
|
||
[together to "Yankee Doodle" theme:]
|
||
|
||
His Majesty commands you all
|
||
Draw nigh and pray attend....for....
|
||
|
||
[the second Herald sings:]
|
||
Three spiders rampant passant statant on a field of green
|
||
Surrounded by a bordure compony is what we mean
|
||
Engorged with crowns of several kinds, and que-fourchee to boot
|
||
And charged with Fleurs-de-Lis in pink
|
||
|
||
[spoken: "In pink?"
|
||
"Well, it -could- have been flamingos!"]
|
||
|
||
And semee'd in bandicoots!
|
||
|
||
[both: "ARRGGGHHH!"]
|
||
|
||
My Lords and Ladies, pray attend
|
||
(My Lords and Ladies, pray attend)
|
||
And please do not misapprehend
|
||
(And please do not misapprehend)
|
||
For we in our pomposity
|
||
(For we in our pomposity)
|
||
Perpetuate atrocity
|
||
|
||
(Perpetuate atrocity)
|
||
By singing you this awful song
|
||
(By singing you this awful song)
|
||
We know that it is much too long!
|
||
(We know that it is much too long!)
|
||
His Majesty
|
||
Is kicking me!
|
||
So we'll shut up and take our leave
|
||
(So we'll shut up and take our leave)
|
||
So we'll shut up and take our leave
|
||
(So we'll shut up and take our leave)
|
||
|
||
(fade out and sneak off, if possible....)
|
||
|
||
(c) words copyright 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
DER FUEHRER'S FACE fragment
|
||
Words & Tune: Spike Jones
|
||
|
||
Vhen der Fuehrer says,
|
||
"Ve is der master race!"
|
||
Ve heil! <razz> Heil! <razz>
|
||
Right in der Fuehrer's face.
|
||
To not be Cherman
|
||
Is a big disgrace,
|
||
Zo ve heil! <razz> Heil! <razz>
|
||
Right in der Fuehrer's face!
|
||
|
||
presumably copyright Spike Jones in the early 40s.
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
FLAT EARTH filk start
|
||
Words: Sherman Dorn
|
||
|
||
If you watch Maury Povich or Inside Edition
|
||
and think up each day new conspiracy theories,
|
||
there's a group ready-made to feed your suspicion,
|
||
boost your blood pressure, and wake up your Furies.
|
||
|
||
We all really know that the Earth is quite flat.
|
||
Though Newton commanded, the globe went a-splat.
|
||
The Challenger blew
|
||
but some already knew
|
||
---
|
||
[author now looking for a good last line to this verse and a few
|
||
more verses too. Anyone want to assist?]
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
FOUND IN AN EMPTY CHAIR IN A FILKSING, 1995
|
||
|
||
Go quietly amid the SCA members and remember what joy there is in
|
||
keeping your head upon your shoulders. As far as possible with-
|
||
out surrender be on good terms with all persons, For you may
|
||
someday need crash space. Speak your truth quietly and clearly,
|
||
and listen to others--even to the dull and ignorant--Unless, of
|
||
course, they want to tell you about their D&D characters, deep
|
||
underlying meanings in Dr. Who, or the endings of movies you
|
||
haven't seen yet. Avoid loud and aggressive persons--in short,
|
||
stay out of the filk suite. If you compare yourself to others
|
||
you may become vain or bitter--in your case, probably bitter.
|
||
|
||
Keep interested in your own career, for no one else is. Exercise
|
||
caution in the Dealer's Room, for you may find it cheaper on
|
||
someone else's table--but probably not. And let this not keep
|
||
you from forking over the cash, For you know you're going to buy
|
||
the damn thing in the end.
|
||
|
||
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the
|
||
things of youth: rabbit-fur Barbarian costumes and spandex come
|
||
first to mind. Nurture your credit cards to shield you in times
|
||
of sudden bankruptcy. But do not distress your self with dark
|
||
imaginings--it's probably just something you drank--for many cons
|
||
are born of fatigue and light beer.
|
||
|
||
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself, Unless
|
||
you can find someone else to do it for you.
|
||
|
||
You are an attendee of the convention, you paid your fifteen
|
||
bucks and have a right to be here. And whether or not it looks
|
||
like it, the convention is unfolding as well as can be expected.
|
||
Therefore, be at peace with God, and hope that the televangelists
|
||
aren't right or we're all in deep doo-doo. And whatever your
|
||
labors and aspirations in the noisy confusion of the consuite,
|
||
Keep your hands to your self. With all its lack of ice, screwed-
|
||
up film schedules, and broken elevators, it's still the only game
|
||
in town. Live long and prosper, open the bay doors, use the
|
||
force, and DON'T PANIC.
|
||
|
||
Copyright 1990, Randy Farran and Lisa Berry Farran
|
||
|
||
|
||
This is printed by permission and may be reproduced (for hobby,
|
||
fandom newsletters, or similar basically non-profit purposes) as
|
||
long as the copyright notice is maintained. Randy and Lisa would
|
||
appreciate copies of publications in which it is printed
|
||
|
||
c/o Curtis Berry
|
||
3104 West 39 Street
|
||
Tulsa, OK 74107
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
I AM A JOCK
|
||
Words:Rhys ap Baruch
|
||
Tune: "I Am a Rock", Simon & Garfunkel
|
||
|
||
An August day
|
||
In a Pennsic field battle
|
||
I am surrounded
|
||
Gazing at the shieldwall
|
||
Advancing on my right
|
||
And from the left there comes a hostile knight
|
||
I am a jock, I am a fighter
|
||
|
||
Castle walls
|
||
A fortress great and mighty
|
||
That we must penetrate
|
||
We have no need of sappers
|
||
They just get in the way
|
||
Hand me my sword and I'll carry the day
|
||
I am a jock, I am a fighter
|
||
|
||
Don't talk of dance
|
||
Embroidery or research
|
||
I want none of that
|
||
I only live for steel
|
||
Duct tape and rattan
|
||
The beer is cold and I'm a fighting man
|
||
I am a jock, I am a fighter
|
||
|
||
I have my spear
|
||
And a shieldman to protect me
|
||
I am sweating in my armour
|
||
Fighting in the field
|
||
We will never yield
|
||
I slay them all and no one touches me
|
||
I am a jock, I am a fighter
|
||
And a jock feels no pain
|
||
Even when he dies
|
||
|
||
(c) 1991, Ian Klinck
|
||
Permission is freely given to reproduce and/or publish this work
|
||
for non-profit purposes within the Society for Creative Anachro-
|
||
nism, Inc., provided proper credit is given.
|
||
Permission is also given to make minor changes to the lyrics, to
|
||
make the work more appropriate for the local group. (i.e. substi-
|
||
tute "Eastrealm" for "Midrealm" or vice-versa)
|
||
|
||
Rhys ap Baruch, of the Cantons of Eoforwic and Bryniau Tywynnog,
|
||
Barony of Septentria, Principality of Ealdormere, Kingdom of the
|
||
Middle
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
I'M AN AZI
|
||
Words: Dr Pepper
|
||
Tune: Feeling Groovy
|
||
|
||
Vat grown, and brought up fast
|
||
I'm not the first and not the last
|
||
Just-- soaking up all those hypno tapes
|
||
Life is a plan and i'm an Azi
|
||
|
||
At my work i'm-- never lazy
|
||
Miss my tape, and i go crazy
|
||
Kill me when i'm obsolete
|
||
I won't make a fuss cuz i'm an Azi
|
||
|
||
I've got no subconscious,
|
||
No phobias deep
|
||
I'm programmed and analyzed,
|
||
All in my sleep
|
||
Psychotherapy's just like a tune up for me
|
||
Of course i love you-- i'm an Azi
|
||
|
||
words copyright Dr Pepper 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
Lives
|
||
Words: Lynn Gold
|
||
Tune: "Lies" by Stan Rogers
|
||
|
||
G D
|
||
At last the boss is gone now for the day
|
||
Em C G D
|
||
The hackers do their projects when the management's away
|
||
G D
|
||
They leave some time to write some code and plan
|
||
Em C G D
|
||
From five until five-thirty, when they swap files on the LAN
|
||
G D
|
||
Sure was a bitter beta, but this release is fine, and
|
||
Em C
|
||
Maybe last year's Easter egg will pop up one more time
|
||
G D
|
||
It's now 5:29, oh how time flies
|
||
Am D G
|
||
The hackers all rush home 'cause they got lives
|
||
|
||
(CHORUS)
|
||
Am C
|
||
Oh lives
|
||
G D
|
||
They rush home, the hackers all got lives
|
||
Am C D C
|
||
Lives, all lives
|
||
G
|
||
Too much time staring into space
|
||
A C
|
||
That could be spent with S-Os, husbands, wives
|
||
D G
|
||
The hackers, they got lives
|
||
|
||
G D
|
||
They used to hack long days at work and then
|
||
Em C G D
|
||
They'd go home to their term'nals and start hacking once again
|
||
G D
|
||
No need to search to find them through the years
|
||
Em C G
|
||
D
|
||
They haunted the control rooms where machine noise filled their
|
||
ears
|
||
G D
|
||
But then they all found networks with other hackers there
|
||
Em C
|
||
And found there was a world outside beyond their term'nal's glare
|
||
G D
|
||
Well, after seeing this, it's no surprise
|
||
Am D G
|
||
The hackers all went out and they got lives.
|
||
|
||
(CHORUS)
|
||
Am C
|
||
Oh lives
|
||
G D
|
||
They rush home, the hackers all got lives
|
||
Am C D C
|
||
Lives, all lives
|
||
G
|
||
Too much time staring into space
|
||
A C
|
||
That could be spent with S-Os, husbands, wives
|
||
D G
|
||
The hackers, they got lives
|
||
|
||
G D
|
||
Now they rush off from work to be with friends
|
||
Em C G D
|
||
They all have home computers which they pick up now and then
|
||
G D
|
||
They make sure that the code they just wrote ran,
|
||
Em C G D
|
||
Pour themselves some coffee, or some caffeine from a can
|
||
G D
|
||
And think ahead to Friday, 'cause payday will be fine!
|
||
Em C
|
||
They look up at their ancient code and ponder, line by line
|
||
G D
|
||
Then through direct deposit pay arrives
|
||
Am D G
|
||
And helps them to finance their newfound lives.
|
||
|
||
(CHORUS)
|
||
Am C
|
||
Oh lives
|
||
G D
|
||
They rush home, the hackers all got lives
|
||
Am C D C
|
||
Lives, all lives
|
||
G
|
||
Too much time staring into space
|
||
A C
|
||
That could be spent with S-Os, husbands, wives
|
||
D G
|
||
The hackers, they got lives
|
||
|
||
words (c) 1991 Lynn Gold
|
||
music (c) 1981 Stan Rogers
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
MAMAS, DON'T LET YOUR BABIES GROW UP TO BE HACKERS
|
||
Words: Mike Van Pelt
|
||
Tune: Willie Nelson and/or Waylon Jennings, I think.
|
||
|
||
Hackers ain't easy to love and they're harder to stand
|
||
They'd rather play with a gizmo that's made out of sand.
|
||
Never wear neckties, just old faded levis,
|
||
And each night begins a new day.
|
||
You can't understand him, and you won't until
|
||
The F.B.I takes him away.
|
||
|
||
<Chorus>
|
||
|
||
Mammas, don't let your babies grow up to be hackers.
|
||
Don't let 'em hack UNIX, if they try, revolt!
|
||
Don't let 'em eat Twinkies, don't let 'em drink Jolt.
|
||
Mammas, don't let your babies grow up to be hackers.
|
||
'Cause they'll always stay home in their room all alone,
|
||
Interfaced to their silicon love.
|
||
|
||
|
||
Hackers like frigid machine rooms and bleary eyed mornings
|
||
Little warm RAM chips and things that go 'beep' in the night.
|
||
Them that don't know him won't trust him
|
||
and them that do trust him to unleash a virus. (*)
|
||
He ain't bad or amoral, but his pride won't let him
|
||
turn back from an elegant hack.
|
||
|
||
<Chorus>
|
||
|
||
<Repeat chorus (modified)>
|
||
|
||
Mammas, don't let your babies grow up if they're hackers.
|
||
Some day they'll hack NORAD and start World War III
|
||
The world is a gonner if you let them be.
|
||
Mammas, don't let your babies grow up to be hackers.
|
||
'Cause they'll always stay home in their room all alone,
|
||
Interfaced to their silicon love.
|
||
|
||
(* This really doesn't look like it scans, but it works the
|
||
same way as the original.)
|
||
|
||
words copyright Mike Van Pelt, 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
The Minstrel Boy
|
||
Words: Thomas More
|
||
|
||
The minstrel boy to the war has gone
|
||
In the ranks of death you will find him
|
||
His father's sword he has girded on
|
||
And his wild harp slung behind him.
|
||
Land of Song, said the warrior bard
|
||
tho all the world betray thee
|
||
One sword at least thy rights shall guard
|
||
One faithful harp shall praise thee!
|
||
|
||
The minstrel fell, but the foeman's chain
|
||
Could not bring that proud soul under
|
||
The harp he loved never spoke again
|
||
For he tore it's chords asunder
|
||
And he said no chain shall sully thee
|
||
Thou soul of love and bravery!
|
||
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
|
||
They shall never sound in slavery!
|
||
|
||
[this poem can be found in any good book of poetry! ]
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
The Moderator's Song
|
||
Words: Dr Pepper
|
||
Tune: Gilbert & Sullivan
|
||
|
||
Our moderator, patient soul
|
||
When she this place first took control
|
||
Said motivation was her role
|
||
She'd not be heavy handed
|
||
|
||
So in a gentle tone declared
|
||
That all opinions may be shared
|
||
Provided that no flames are aired
|
||
That's all that she demanded
|
||
|
||
And i expect that you'll agree
|
||
That she showed sensibility
|
||
|
||
And i am right and you are right
|
||
And all is right as it should be
|
||
|
||
|
||
Then someone brought up rights for gays
|
||
That brought a flood of yeas and nays
|
||
Two hundred posts in twenty days
|
||
Without a new perspective
|
||
|
||
And next abortion right or wrong
|
||
And gun control, the same old song
|
||
For novel discourse she did long
|
||
Not stale retrospective
|
||
|
||
And you'll think, i anticipate
|
||
Such longings were appropriate
|
||
|
||
And i am right and you are right
|
||
And all is right and really great
|
||
|
||
words copyright Dr Pepper, 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
MR MARSHAL
|
||
Words: Rhys ap Baruch
|
||
Tune: "Mr. Sandman"
|
||
|
||
Mr. Marshal, please let me fight
|
||
I'm sure my armour must be alright
|
||
Sure, there's a gap from my knee to my hip
|
||
And that hole will admit a thrusting tip
|
||
But Mr. Marshal, It's one month 'til War
|
||
I've never been down to Pennsic before
|
||
Yes, a hero I will be!
|
||
Mr. Marshal, authorize me!
|
||
|
||
(repeat)
|
||
|
||
|
||
Mr. Marshal, please let me fight
|
||
I really wanna become a knight
|
||
I'll fight all day, and I won't go down
|
||
I'll swear fealty to the crown!
|
||
Mr. Marshal, you've gotta sign here
|
||
I'll bribe you with money, I'll bribe you with beer
|
||
You'll see how grateful I will be,
|
||
Mr. Marshal, authorize me!
|
||
|
||
(c) 1991, Ian Klinck
|
||
Permission is freely given to reproduce and/or publish this work
|
||
for non-profit purposes within the Society for Creative Anachro-
|
||
nism, Inc., provided proper credit is given.
|
||
Permission is also given to make minor changes to the lyrics, to
|
||
make the work more appropriate for the local group. (i.e. substi-
|
||
tute "Eastrealm" for "Midrealm" or vice-versa)
|
||
|
||
Rhys ap Baruch, of the Cantons of Eoforwic and Bryniau Tywynnog,
|
||
Barony of Septentria, Principality of Ealdormere, Kingdom of the
|
||
Middle
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
"The New Generation Tango"
|
||
Words: Sherman Dorn
|
||
Tune: The Masochism Tango
|
||
|
||
Trek slakes my desire for pulp fiction.
|
||
Watching bad episodes is an addiction.
|
||
Some stories inspire
|
||
but most plots require
|
||
the disposal of all science and reason.
|
||
|
||
I love when the crew is encumbered
|
||
with problems too many to number.
|
||
Trek solves it all fine
|
||
at 6:59,
|
||
even doing it without Wes this season.
|
||
|
||
(bridge)
|
||
At Gene's command
|
||
before the set I stand,
|
||
brick ready in my hand.
|
||
It's sad that we must see
|
||
Riker's romance
|
||
and sappy song-and-dance,
|
||
Not a woman's vig'rous stance
|
||
And a well-placed upthrust knee.
|
||
|
||
So bore me to tears with emoting Troi,
|
||
and drive me to randomly remoting joy
|
||
with that cliched mix
|
||
of dialog schtick.
|
||
Relief comes only with Lwaxana's coy boy toys.
|
||
|
||
(bridge)
|
||
The Klingons thrill
|
||
me when a villain kills
|
||
someone just in time to fill
|
||
the space 'twixt writers' ears.
|
||
I love Worf's grunts
|
||
and elaborate plot hunts
|
||
and some pyrotechnic stunts
|
||
but no thoughts there, don't you fear.
|
||
|
||
Take the VHS cassette from its holder,
|
||
And ruin my taste until it molders.
|
||
Rot out my brain
|
||
and make me scream again
|
||
As we watch to the Next Generation Tango.
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
QUEEN TANGWYSTL
|
||
Words: Rhys ap Baruch
|
||
Tune: "Mrs. Robinson", Simon and Garfunkel
|
||
|
||
Dee dee dee-dee . . .
|
||
Doo doo-doo doo . . .
|
||
Dee dee-dee dee . . .
|
||
|
||
CHORUS:
|
||
Wassail to you, Queen Tangwystl
|
||
I live in constant fear of your crossbow (wo wo wo)
|
||
Don't shoot me please Queen Tangwystl
|
||
You're the queen who has to be obeyed (hey hey hey hey hey hey)
|
||
|
||
We'd like to do a little bit to get in your good books
|
||
If there's anything you'd like just help yourself
|
||
Look around you, all you see are very frightened eyes
|
||
We would never think of breaking any oath
|
||
|
||
CHORUS.
|
||
|
||
King David's in a hiding-place that no one knows about
|
||
Is it in the pantry or the dungeon?
|
||
It's a sheepish secret, just a Feringold affair
|
||
Most of all, you've got to hide it from the lambs
|
||
|
||
CHORUS (change first line to:)
|
||
Cu-cu ca-chu Queen Tangwystl . . .
|
||
|
||
Sitting on your throne on a sunny afternoon
|
||
Handing out a couple AoA's
|
||
Load your crossbow, shoot the herald, sing another song
|
||
When you're Queen, you can't be wrong
|
||
|
||
Where have you gone, Duke Cariadoc
|
||
The Midrealm turns its frightened eyes to you (woo woo woo)
|
||
What's that you say Queen Tangwystl?
|
||
Cariadoc is not the one who reigns (hey hey hey, we must obey)
|
||
|
||
A copy of this song was (informally) presented to Her Most Royal
|
||
and Draconian Majesty in the marketplace at Pennsic XX (after
|
||
much time spent trying to get an "official" appointment). HRM had
|
||
heard of the song beforehand, and, upon receipt of the printed
|
||
copy, handed it to one of her attendants and said, "Here, read
|
||
it. It's a good one." I take this to be Royal approval for the
|
||
circulation of this song.
|
||
|
||
(c) 1991, Ian Klinck
|
||
Permission is freely given to reproduce and/or publish this work
|
||
for non-profit purposes within the Society for Creative Anachro-
|
||
nism, Inc., provided proper credit is given.
|
||
Permission is also given to make minor changes to the lyrics, to
|
||
make the work more appropriate for the local group. (i.e. substi-
|
||
tute "Eastrealm" for "Midrealm" or vice-versa)
|
||
|
||
Rhys ap Baruch, of the Cantons of Eoforwic and Bryniau Tywynnog,
|
||
Barony of Septentria, Principality of Ealdormere, Kingdom of the
|
||
Middle
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
THE ROSES OF OUR LADY
|
||
Words: Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
Tune: "Roses Of Prince Charlie"
|
||
|
||
CHORUS: Come now, gather now, here where the flowers grow!
|
||
Bright is the blossom as the eyes of your love!
|
||
Hear now a Kingdom's call! We'll make a solemn vow,
|
||
Now by the Roses of Our Lady!
|
||
|
||
Fight again with shining sword and bright-emblazoned shield!
|
||
Fight beside the heroes of Estrella's bloody field!
|
||
Fight again and hold the line and never, ever yield!
|
||
Fight beneath the Roses of Our Lady!
|
||
|
||
Spirits of the Dreamers in far and distant lands
|
||
Carved out the Known Worlde with sweat and blood and hands
|
||
Come now, in glory, and on the silver sand,
|
||
Fight by the Roses of Our Lady!
|
||
|
||
Take your strength from the summer Sun that boldly blazes forth
|
||
The deserts of the Southlands and the mountains of the North
|
||
Stand fast together, let's show them what we're worth!
|
||
Stand by the Roses of Our Lady!
|
||
|
||
CHORUS 2X
|
||
|
||
(c) words copyright 1991 W.J. Bethancourt III
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
The Shaving Cream song
|
||
words: Joey McKangaroo
|
||
|
||
Melvin was a baseball player,
|
||
The fans soon took him to his favor,
|
||
For he was the hottest hitter on the teeeam...
|
||
|
||
But all that was on Melvin's mind,
|
||
was the hopes someday, someone would sign (him)
|
||
Up to do commercials for some,
|
||
Shaving Cream! HEY!
|
||
|
||
Chorus: (sped up)
|
||
|
||
Shaving cream, shaving cream,
|
||
|
||
That was Melvin's only dream,
|
||
While he wasn'tinterestedinthe hall of fame,
|
||
He actually hit it in the baseball game,
|
||
Just wanted to do commercials for some,
|
||
Shaving Cream! HEY!
|
||
|
||
|
||
(A little Russian Chorus here...)
|
||
Melvin's batting average started, average...
|
||
(That's English!)
|
||
Melvin's batting average started riiising...
|
||
The fans soon started recogniiizing (him,)
|
||
And one day he realized his dream...
|
||
(Back: He realized his dreeeeam....)
|
||
For a man from B-B-D and O (The advertising agency)
|
||
With a fountain pen, (... and a lotta dough)
|
||
Signed him up for commercials for some
|
||
Shaving Cream, HEY!
|
||
|
||
CHORUS.
|
||
|
||
Residuals and Salaries,
|
||
Made Melvin as rich as he could be!
|
||
But things weren't all that they might seeem...
|
||
(Back: As they might seeeeemm....)
|
||
For Melvin wasn't very.. bright (heh heh)
|
||
And he had to stay awake AAALLL NIGHT!
|
||
Oh, Doing those darn commercials for that,
|
||
Shaving Cream, HEY!!
|
||
|
||
CHORUS.
|
||
|
||
FOURTH VERSE: (I think it's the funniest)
|
||
|
||
But wait! Sadness Has Struck!
|
||
(Twiddle the strings on the guitar)
|
||
|
||
Melvin's batting average started dropping,
|
||
(Whistle downward) ...ah...
|
||
The tickets and fans started stopping...
|
||
And his value for commercials lost it's gleam...
|
||
|
||
Back: It lost it's gleam and Clescent Pepsodent tooooooooooooOOO-
|
||
OOOooOOOOooo,OOOOOooooOOOooooooooo, (I'll wait till you're fin-
|
||
ished)
|
||
|
||
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo hurryupI'mrunningouto-
|
||
faiiiiirrrr....
|
||
|
||
Front: Don't clap, it encourages him! (both start laughing)
|
||
|
||
Anyway, it lost its, you know what...
|
||
|
||
So with no future, and with no hope...
|
||
(Old man starts sobbing)
|
||
He lathered up, and he slit his throat (KGKKGKGLLL!!! (can be
|
||
made
|
||
by squeezing air out of the side of your mouth))
|
||
|
||
Doing his last commercial for that
|
||
Shaving Cream! HEY!!
|
||
|
||
Repeat Chorus twice.
|
||
|
||
end abruptly....!
|
||
|
||
words copyright Joey McKangaroo, 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
SHAVING CYBERPUNK verse
|
||
Words: Sherman Dorn
|
||
Tune: Shaving Cream
|
||
|
||
Cyberpunk,
|
||
listening to funk.
|
||
Write every day
|
||
and you'll look like a hunk.
|
||
|
||
words copyright Sherman Dorn 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
"THE SOUND OF VIOLENCE"
|
||
Words: Rhys ap Baruch and Blaine Sylvan
|
||
Tune: "The Sound of Silence", Simon and Garfunkel
|
||
|
||
Hello broadsword my old friend
|
||
I've come to fight with you again
|
||
Because the sounds of battle ringing
|
||
In my ears has me singing
|
||
And the rock that I have instead of a brain
|
||
Still remains
|
||
I love the sound of violence
|
||
In tournaments I fight alone
|
||
I leave my melee gear at home
|
||
But when I go down to the Pennsic War
|
||
I often fight in groups of five or more
|
||
When my friend was stabbed by an Eastern spear in the head
|
||
He was dead
|
||
Touched by the sound of violence
|
||
A thousand footmen waging war
|
||
A hundred archers maybe more
|
||
Polemen thrusting from the second row
|
||
Shieldmen dying, they're the first to go
|
||
Two-stick fighters can harry the enemy flank
|
||
They've got rank
|
||
And love the sound of violence
|
||
Foolishly I pressed ahead
|
||
I'd be a hero or be dead
|
||
A belted fighter tried to teach me
|
||
With his polearm he might reach me
|
||
But my blows like violent hailstones fell
|
||
And struck well
|
||
Causing the sound of violence
|
||
Eastrealm fighters fell and died
|
||
Before th' advancing Midrealm tide
|
||
And we shouted out our battle cry
|
||
We would conquer or we would die
|
||
And the bards sing the deeds of the fighters that bravely fall
|
||
And they all
|
||
Whisper the sound of violence
|
||
|
||
(c) 1991, Ian Klinck
|
||
Permission is freely given to reproduce and/or publish this work
|
||
for non-profit purposes within the Society for Creative Anachro-
|
||
nism, Inc., provided proper credit is given. Permission is also
|
||
given to make minor changes to the lyrics, to make the work more
|
||
appropriate for the local group. (i.e. substitute "Eastrealm" for
|
||
"Midrealm" or vice-versa)
|
||
|
||
Rhys ap Baruch, of the Cantons of Eoforwic and Bryniau Tywynnog,
|
||
Barony of Septentria, Principality of Ealdormere, Kingdom of the
|
||
Middle
|
||
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
SUMMONING THE SEUSS
|
||
Contributed by Questor Coyote
|
||
|
||
On Sep 23 the much beloved Dr. Seuss passed away. He will be
|
||
sorely missed, both by children and by us so called grown-ups.
|
||
The weekend before at an equinox festival our circle performed
|
||
this ritual as a joke. Now with much love and respect I submit
|
||
it as a tribute to Dr. Seuss.
|
||
|
||
SUMMONING THE SEUSS
|
||
We want a place
|
||
for the magic to last.
|
||
So around we spin
|
||
and a circle we cast.
|
||
|
||
We will challenge you in
|
||
to join the fun.
|
||
There are candles in here
|
||
so please do not run.
|
||
|
||
Watchtower one
|
||
Watchtower two
|
||
Watchtower red
|
||
Watchtower blue
|
||
|
||
Summon the Goddess
|
||
and invoke the Lord
|
||
Just remember your lines
|
||
or They will get bored.
|
||
|
||
We would talk to the lady
|
||
so down we will draw.
|
||
Just hope She's not mad
|
||
or She'll lay down the law.
|
||
|
||
When casting a spell
|
||
the air sure gets hot.
|
||
We're not wearing our clothes
|
||
so care we do not
|
||
|
||
Do you like
|
||
green cakes and wine?
|
||
Oh yes we do
|
||
we like them fine
|
||
|
||
The knife we stick
|
||
into the cup
|
||
The wine is blessed
|
||
let's drink it up.
|
||
|
||
The circle is open
|
||
the quarters are gone.
|
||
The candles are out
|
||
and the lightbulbs back on.
|
||
|
||
Merry Meet, Dr. Suess. Merry Part, and Merry Meet again.
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
Tovarisch!
|
||
Words: Joe Bethancourt
|
||
Tune: "Let's call the whole thing off"
|
||
|
||
You say "Tovarisch", and I say "Gospodin"
|
||
You say "we bury you" and I say "glasnost"
|
||
Tovarisch...gospodin
|
||
we bury you....glasnost
|
||
Let's call the whole thing off......
|
||
|
||
<grin!>
|
||
|
||
words copyright Joe Bethancourt 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh...
|
||
words: Joey McKangaroo
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh,
|
||
It's Off The Cliff We Go...
|
||
|
||
My brakes don't work
|
||
this is gonna hurt
|
||
Uh Oh, Uh oh uh oh uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's Off The Cliff We Go...
|
||
|
||
If I scratch the paint
|
||
My dad'll faint
|
||
Uh Oh, Uh oh uh oh uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's Off The Cliff We Go...
|
||
|
||
If th' fender's broke
|
||
he'll have a stroke
|
||
Uh Oh, Uh oh uh oh uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's Off The Cliff We Go...
|
||
|
||
If it becomes a fad
|
||
He'll get real mad
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh...
|
||
|
||
words uncopyright (uc) Joey McKangaroo 1991
|
||
|
||
And an additional suggestion from Sherman Dorn
|
||
|
||
"Uh-oh, uh-oh,
|
||
It's off to war we go . . ."
|
||
|
||
Additional verses by Dave Aronson
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
A flattened tire
|
||
Will raise his ire,
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh....
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If I scratch the hood
|
||
He'll beat me good
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh....
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If we hit bottom
|
||
He'll show me Sodom
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh....
|
||
|
||
And MORE from Joey McKangaroo!
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If the muffler's out
|
||
He'll really shout
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh uh oh
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If I hit a hill
|
||
He's gonna kill
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh uh oh
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If the tire's flat
|
||
He'll get a bat
|
||
(or He'll join a frat)
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh...
|
||
|
||
And even MORE from Dave Aronson!
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go,
|
||
If we get a dent
|
||
My head'll be bent,
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh uh oh
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If we break a rod
|
||
Better pray to God
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh uh oh
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If the wheel well
|
||
Gets muddy he'll yell
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh uh oh
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If we break a door
|
||
He'll hurt me more
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh uh oh
|
||
|
||
And even MORE from Joey McKangaroo!
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, Uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If I break the Shell
|
||
I'll go to Hell,
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh uh oh
|
||
|
||
Uh oh... uh Oh...
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If I hit it hard,
|
||
He'll take my card,
|
||
Uh oh , uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
(stepping out of line for a second...)
|
||
|
||
(If I break the Shell refers to a camper shell.)
|
||
(He'll take my card refers to my driver's license.)
|
||
|
||
(back to the song.)
|
||
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh,
|
||
It's off the cliff we go...
|
||
If it's all a dream,
|
||
I'm going to scream!
|
||
Uh oh, uh oh...
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
VALDRIC THE VEGETARIAN VIKING
|
||
-Words by Rathflaed DeTunin
|
||
The Black Bard of Meridies
|
||
|
||
I've traveled many lands it's true and some I can't recall,
|
||
And I think that no matter how far I go, I'll never see them all.
|
||
I've traveled countries so far across like fine Merideas,
|
||
And some I've traveled were drops in a pond; I walked across in
|
||
days.
|
||
And many I've met, and many I've seen, and a few were to my
|
||
liking.
|
||
But one I'll remember to my dying day is Valdric the vegetarian
|
||
viking.
|
||
|
||
You've heard of Fates, monsters and Gods, and the man who would
|
||
not die.
|
||
You've heard of elves and dwarves and such, and the beholder's
|
||
beautied eye.
|
||
You've heard of orcs and trolls I'm sure and nasties by the
|
||
score.
|
||
I've covered most, I just don't think that I can name any more.
|
||
Well dragons and treasures and maidens are great, but now I just
|
||
don't care.
|
||
For I have seen Valdric and all of these things to him just don't
|
||
compare.
|
||
|
||
Eight foot four he stood to tower over men,
|
||
You'd look at his boots, get up to his knees, and look back down
|
||
again.
|
||
He wore a helmet with horns, and a half moon axe, that made you
|
||
think, "Beware!"
|
||
And his boots and his hat and his face and his arms were covered
|
||
with three inch hair.
|
||
Then you'd get to his eyes, and notice his smile, and think,"He
|
||
wouldn't hurt anything!"
|
||
And his four foot girth, yes that's him, Valdric the vegetarian
|
||
viking.
|
||
|
||
We met at a court I've traveled to some, and thought that I'd
|
||
stay at awhile,
|
||
I've relatives there, or so some might say, at the court of
|
||
squire Logan of Guille.
|
||
He had just come in, and been offered some meat, and regretfully
|
||
had to decline,
|
||
He said,"Though a rare treat, I will not eat meat, Have you some
|
||
turnips and wine?"
|
||
All talking stopped, and everyone stared, and one of the ladies
|
||
just swooned then.
|
||
Then all down the hall, the fighters stood up, turned and dropped
|
||
trou and then mooned him.
|
||
|
||
But Valdric just stood there, through the snickers and jeers, and
|
||
politely resaid his request.
|
||
Squire Logan roared,"Be quiet you all! I'll not have you laugh at
|
||
a guest!"
|
||
Then the men were abashed though they still stood and stared, and
|
||
they brought him some wine and some cheese.
|
||
While he sat next to me, I was startled to see on his axe was
|
||
engraved a small tree.
|
||
I then asked him why, and he winked his right eye, said,"Why
|
||
shouldn't I hate all plants?
|
||
My family died, with me still a child, at the hands of those
|
||
murderous treants!"
|
||
|
||
We talked for a while, of him as a child, and quickly became fast
|
||
friends.
|
||
And all the next week, we were seen round the keep, chatting and
|
||
laughing again.
|
||
And every now and then you'd see us off on an errand or foray,
|
||
And once in the kitchen(or on our way out) saw the fair lady
|
||
Gwinneth Anorae.
|
||
She looked very worried, we asked what was wrong, she said that
|
||
the squire had been sent,
|
||
Off to the border, with most of his men, to fight off an army of
|
||
treants.
|
||
|
||
"Treants!", cried Valdric as he loosened his axe, "I'll carve
|
||
them and eat them like beets!"
|
||
And then off he raced, while swinging his axe, as fast as would
|
||
move his two feets.
|
||
All the way to the battle, without stopping once, I heard that
|
||
the viking did run.
|
||
And then when I got there, at close to days end, I found that he
|
||
was almost done.
|
||
Sore bestead was the army, until he got there, they'd fight and
|
||
then slowly retreat.
|
||
But then in rushed Valdric, and he swung his great axe, and he
|
||
mowed down the treants like wheat.
|
||
|
||
Aye, his half-moon cut trunks, cut branches and berries, and he
|
||
munched on the pieces the while.
|
||
But they marched in by scores, and hundreds and thousands, to
|
||
fight with his weed whacking smile.
|
||
When he had finished, he looked round for more, and was startled
|
||
to hear a great roar.
|
||
Crying,"Valdric the viking! A warrior true! May he live on forev-
|
||
er more!"
|
||
Then he fell to the ground, and squire Logan looked round, and
|
||
asked me what I thought did hap.
|
||
Then I laughed right out loud, and I said to the crowd,"I think
|
||
he faints at the sight of sap."
|
||
|
||
And those who could hear, laughed with great cheer, and Valdric
|
||
woke up and looked round.
|
||
Then louder they cheered, as Valdric they neared, and they car-
|
||
ried him right into town.
|
||
That day he was piled with awards for his deeds, the squire made
|
||
him part of the court.
|
||
Now I've traveled on, and long I've been gone, but I still know
|
||
where I'll find my sort.
|
||
For when I am weary of the world and it's cares, of the hustle
|
||
and bustle and fighting,
|
||
I can go see my friend, Who is there till the end, Valdric the
|
||
vegetarian viking.
|
||
|
||
words copyright Rathflaed DeTunin 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
WE DIDN'T START THE SERIES
|
||
Words: probably Martin Pollard
|
||
Tune: "We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel
|
||
|
||
Jean-Luc, Geordi's specs,
|
||
Mysteries on the holodecks,
|
||
Asteroids, triple droids,
|
||
Telepathic Betazoids.
|
||
|
||
Transporter, deadly claw,
|
||
Visitor from L.A. Law,
|
||
Photons, no Kirk,
|
||
Captain has gone berzerk!
|
||
|
||
Shuttlecraft, Counselor Troi,
|
||
Doctor Crusher's little boy,
|
||
Klingon rites, parasites,
|
||
New heights, phaser fights!
|
||
|
||
Data's head, Tasha's dead,
|
||
Riker's hangin' by a thread,
|
||
Celebration, transformation,
|
||
Everyone to battle stations!
|
||
|
||
We didn't start the series,
|
||
It's the Next Generation on your favorite station,
|
||
We didn't start the series,
|
||
But when we are gone it will still be on and on and on...
|
||
|
||
We didn't start the series...
|
||
|
||
Alternative Chorus by Eugene Marksworth
|
||
|
||
We didn't start the series!
|
||
It's the next gen'ration
|
||
on your fav'rite station,
|
||
We didn't start the series!
|
||
We can't take the blame,
|
||
|
||
for the show's greatest fame!
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
We Wish
|
||
Words: Joey McKangaroo
|
||
Tune: "We Wish you a Merry Christmas"
|
||
|
||
We wish you would leave a message
|
||
We Wish you would leave a message
|
||
We Wish you would leave a message
|
||
So wait for the beep.
|
||
|
||
You got our machine
|
||
So wait for the tone,
|
||
Then leave your name and number
|
||
and Hang Up The Phone!
|
||
|
||
We wish you would leave a message
|
||
We wish you would leave a message
|
||
We Wish you would leave a message
|
||
So wait for the <BEEEEEEEEP!!>
|
||
|
||
words copyright Joey McKangaroo Sept 1991
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
YOU CAN SING...
|
||
Words: anonymous
|
||
Tune: Alice's Restaurant
|
||
|
||
You can sing anything you want to "Alice's Restaurant"
|
||
You can sing anything you want to "Alice's Restaurant"
|
||
From [ something ] to [ something - "Eric the Grim"?],
|
||
Pick any song and jump right in
|
||
You can sing anything you want to "Alice's Restaurant".
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
Another Young Folks, Old Folks verse...
|
||
As contributed by Andrew Rajcher
|
||
|
||
Moses was the leader of the Israelatic flock,
|
||
He used to get spa water just by tapping on a rock.
|
||
But then, from the multitude there came a mighty cheer,
|
||
For instead of getting water, he got Foster's Lager beer!
|
||
|
||
****CAMP SONGS (aka the Child(ish) Ballads)****
|
||
|
||
BRIDGE SONG
|
||
Words: traditional
|
||
Tune: theme from Bridge over the River Kwai (though probably
|
||
predating that movie by plenty...)
|
||
Contributed by Dave Aronson
|
||
|
||
Hitler
|
||
Has only got one ball;
|
||
Goering
|
||
Has two but very small;
|
||
Himmler
|
||
Is rather sim'lar,
|
||
And Mister Goebbels
|
||
Has no balls
|
||
At all!
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
Ducks and Snipes Forever
|
||
Words: traditional kids song
|
||
Tune: Stars and Stripes Forever
|
||
Contributed by Eugene Marksworth
|
||
|
||
"Be kind to our fine feathered friends...
|
||
For a duck may be somebody's muuuuuu-ther,
|
||
Don't kill all our fine feathered friends,
|
||
There aren't enough for us,
|
||
|
||
So when hunting season has come,
|
||
Just say 'no' to all the hunters and trap-pers,
|
||
for someday all the geese will ROAR!
|
||
and there'll be eggs, ham & eggs, for all and sun-dry, HEY!"
|
||
|
||
Variant reported by Kay Shapero
|
||
|
||
"Be kind to your web-footed friends...
|
||
For that duck could be somebody's muuuuu-ther,
|
||
Be kind to your friends in the swamp,
|
||
Where the weather is very, very dawmp,
|
||
You may think that this is the end,
|
||
You are right!"
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
GREAT GREEN GOBS
|
||
Words: Joey McKangaroo
|
||
Tune: The original was to The Old Grey Mare; this has mutated
|
||
|
||
Great Green Gobs of Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts,
|
||
Simulated Monkey Muck,
|
||
Fruit Flies and Feta Cheese,
|
||
Crushed Snail Shells to Please,
|
||
French worms on a Sourdough Roll,
|
||
I don't have a spoon!
|
||
(Better pick straws...)
|
||
|
||
See how you like THAT! (Bleeah...)
|
||
|
||
[if this is copyright I WILL be surprised. Oh, Joey...]
|
||
|
||
And an alternate version written by Eugene Marksworth
|
||
|
||
Great Green Gobs of Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts,
|
||
Seventy day-old monkey muck,
|
||
Dried up inchworms in a stew,
|
||
Snail shells enough for two,
|
||
Anchovies sitting in a pile of grease,
|
||
I forgot my spoon!
|
||
(Better use a straw...)
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
THE LITTLEST WORM
|
||
Words: traditional camp song
|
||
Tune: "Sipping Cider Through a Straw"
|
||
Contributed by Susan Grant
|
||
|
||
The littlest worm (repeat)
|
||
I ever saw (repeat)
|
||
Got stuck inside (repeat)
|
||
My soda straw (repeat)
|
||
(Repeat the whole verse)
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
OH SAY...
|
||
Words: traditional kid song
|
||
Tune: "Star Spangled Banner"
|
||
contributed by Eugene Marksworth
|
||
|
||
Oh say can you see,
|
||
any bedbugs on me?
|
||
If you do, take a few,
|
||
then I won't have quite so many.
|
||
|
||
Who is making these cars?
|
||
They're just falling apart!
|
||
Oh, my TIIII-re is flat,
|
||
I think I got it from K-Mart.
|
||
|
||
Somebody call the Cops!
|
||
I'm be'ing attacked by guys wi'mops!
|
||
And my bus driver knows,
|
||
Everywhere he's gotta stop!
|
||
|
||
Oh, why can't this stupid l'il
|
||
BALL-Game ever start?
|
||
|
||
'Cause I am getting bored!
|
||
And I'm afraid that I will faaaart!
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
Over There
|
||
Words: traditional kids song
|
||
Tune: Over there...
|
||
Contributed by Eugene Marksworth
|
||
|
||
"Over there,
|
||
Over there,
|
||
Take your chair,
|
||
and go sit,
|
||
over there..."
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
TRA LA LA
|
||
Words: traditional kids song
|
||
Tune: Tra La La Boom De-Ay...
|
||
contributed by Joey McKangaroo
|
||
|
||
Tra la la boom De-Ay...
|
||
We have no school today!
|
||
Our teacher passed away,
|
||
She died just yesterday!
|
||
We laid her in some hay,
|
||
And threw her in the bay!
|
||
And when we pulled her out,
|
||
She smelled like sauerkraut!
|
||
Tra la la boom de-ay,
|
||
We have no school today!
|
||
|
||
Addendum from Dave Aronson
|
||
|
||
The way I remember it was "She died of tooth decay". Especially
|
||
appropriate at that age, when grownups keep threatening kids with
|
||
it if we don't brush our teeth....
|
||
|
||
|
||
****
|
||
|
||
More We're Out Of Spaghetti,
|
||
(these additional verses by Dave Aronson)
|
||
|
||
We can't have dessert yet,
|
||
The main course ain't done,
|
||
And sittin' around here
|
||
Is not very fun.
|
||
|
||
We've still got some salad,
|
||
And soup in the pot,
|
||
But pasta and meatballs
|
||
Is what we ain't got.
|
||
|
||
Next time we tell Joe-Bob
|
||
To come for a meal,
|
||
Maybe we should find the
|
||
Best bulk-pasta deal!
|
||
|
||
WHISTLE
|
||
Words: traditional kids song
|
||
Tune: Whistle While you Work...
|
||
contributed by Joey McKangaroo
|
||
|
||
Whistle While you work,
|
||
'Cause Hitler is a jerk,
|
||
Mussolini
|
||
bit his weenie (?!?!?!)
|
||
Now it doesn't work!
|
||
|
||
Addendum from Dave Aronson
|
||
|
||
I heard it as "Hitler likes to jerk" ("off" being implied), and
|
||
"Mussolini broke his weenie".
|
||
|
||
--end of file--
|
||
|