FFFFF I L K K fffff i l eeeee F I L K K f i l e FFFF I L KK ffff i l eeee F I L K K f i l e F I LLLLLL K K f i llllll eeeee
—————————————————————- The third compilation of filksongs collected from the FILK Echo and provided for download via the auspices of Kay Shapero, moder- ator of same. Publication date, July 1990. All copyrights belong to the writers.
FILKfile appears at irregular intervals of a month or more, depending on how many songs appear on the echo.
ALL YOU NEED words by Steve Martin (tune: "Sometimes A Fantasy")
Oh, I didn't want to do it but I wasn't sleepy I had to call it up in the middle of the night wouldn't wake my friends, but the BBS is always open what I really need is stimulation somebody else who has imagination
it's just me killing time 'cause I don't count sheep it's just me killing time because I can't sleep sometimes some play of mind is all you need
In time I got so tired, but I stayed on anyway touring doors and files and echoes, couldn't stop just yet and though I knew that in the morning that I'd sure regret it I played half an hour of Global Warfare before a.m. events kicked me off there
it's just a "quick" phone call to read a note or three can't make a long phone call (got low secur'ty) sometimes to read a while is all you need
Oh, I know I couldn't think straight, I was really sleepy but I had to put the tune out of my head though half the lyrics and the melody are clearly stolen from a song that happ'nd to be playing while through the wrong base I was straying
it's just me killing time waiting for forty winks it's just me trying to rhyme but trying not to think sometimes that state of mind is all you need
words copyright Steve Martin, June 1990
DIRGE FOR THE LIVING
by Jean-Guy Talbot de Luc
Where were you the night I needed you the most? I looked to find you there, and you were but a ghost. I feel the sickness of being alone; the lump that's in my throat, A glimmer of hope that shone in a loveless heart afloat. You will all be there, but you will all be late You'll remember that you cared, but resign yourself to fate Try to sleep at night, and walk the edge, equate 'Tween suddenness and change, and fear, how they relate.
Where are you now? In grief and deep despair. Warm tears fall on my chest, perchance a snip of hair Bemoaning damned accursed time, the unfunny cosmic joke It snatches at poetic rhyme and snuffs like candle smoke. You will all be there unsufferable in your shock Setting back the hands of your ticking mental clocks Faces of your bedfellows are strangers there who mock Laughing at the pile of sand where once stood such a rock.
Where were you the day a man became a boy? He was lost when walking home from some aimless hunt for joy He found only vague answers to questions of the heart Seeking not to find an end but perhaps by lark a start Now you see me lying here in cold lifeless repose Flowers' scent, and portraits drawn; a single wilting rose. Regretting not a moment from any path I chose Safely led into the hands of He who Truly Knows.
And where was I? Not this twisted, haunted face! I, too, failed to recognize a human in it's place I erred not to indulge, driving love away My greatest sin was Pride, and Passion was its' prey. Now we all are here, and yes, it is too late, Our lots have all been cast; the terms too grim to state Remember that we love the same thing that we hate That some are meant to die..and some are bound to wait.
copyright 1989, 1990 C.D.Floyd * used by permission
The above, and many other songs may be had in cassette form entitled "The Troll Tones Vol 1 (The Prince's Ball)" and "The Troll Tones Vol 2." Contact C.D.Floyd, 8546 N 59th Ave #203, Glendale, AZ 85302 USA for information.
I SING OF DEAD BUNNIES -Anonymous, but Moonwulf started it! (tune: "Sweet Betsy From Pike" )
I sing of dead bunnies, and burnt baby chicks Barbecued squirrels, and hamsters on sticks Ducklings in blenders, and frogs off the road Opossums on fenders and deep french-fried toad!
Sliced and diced sparrows, dead dogs on the lawn Cats riddled with arrows, and disemboweled faun Pickled canaries, and clubbed baby seals Mice served in berries, and turtles 'neath wheels
Minced baby earwigs, koala fillet Rat Pie with custard, and cockroach puree Fred's little brother, and Mystery Beast: These are the things that they served at the Feast!
LORD OF THE DANCE by Gwyddion PenDderwyn, Amy Falkowitz, Ann Case, Len Rosenberg recorded by Joe Bethancourt "Celtic Circle Dance"
She danced on the water, and the wind was Her horn The Lady laughed, and everything was born And when She lit the sun and its' light gave Him birth The Lord of the Dance first appeared on the Earth
horus): Dance, dance, where ever you may be
I am the Lord of the Dance, you see! I live in you, and you live in Me And I lead you all in the Dance, said He!
I danced in the morning when the World was begun I danced in the Moon and the Stars and the Sun I was called from the Darkness by the Song of the Earth I joined in the Song, and She gave Me the Birth!
I dance in the Circle when the flames leap up high I dance in the Fire, and I never, ever, die I dance in the waves of the bright summer sea For I am the Lord of the wave's mystery
I sleep in the kernel, and I dance in the rain I dance in the wind, and thru the waving grain And when you cut me down, I care nothing for the pain; In the Spring I'm the Lord of the Dance once again!
I dance at the Sabbat when you dance out the Spell I dance and sing that everyone be well And when the dancing's over do not think that I am gone To live is to Dance! So I dance on, and on!
I see the Maidens laughing as they dance in the Sun And I count the fruits of the Harvest, one by one I know the Storm is coming, but the Grain is all stored So I sing of the Dance of the Lady, and Her Lord:
The Horn of the Lady cast its' sound 'cross the Plain The birds took the notes, and gave them back again Till the sound of Her music was a Song in the sky And to that Song there is only one reply:
The moon in her phases, and the tides of the sea The movement of the Earth, and the Seasons that will be Are the rhythm for the dancing, and a promise thru the years That the Dance goes on thru all our joy, and tears
We dance ever slower as the leaves fall and spin And the sound of the Horn is the wailing of the wind The Earth is wrapped in stillness, and we move in a trance, But we hold on fast to our faith in the Dance!
The sun is in the southland and the days grow chill And the sound of the horn is fading on the hill 'Tis the horn of the Hunter, as he rides across the plain And the Lady sleeps 'til the Spring comes again
The Sun is in the Southland and the days lengthen fast And soon we will sing for the Winter that is past Now we light the candles and rejoice as they burn And we dance the Dance of the Sun's return!
They danced in the darkness and they danced in the night They danced on the Earth, and everything was light They danced out the Darkness and they danced in the Dawn And the Day of that Dancing is still going on!
I gaze on the Heavens and I gaze on the Earth And I feel the pain of dying, and re-birth And I lift my head in gladness, and in praise For the Dance of the Lord, and His Lady gay
I dance in the stars as they whirl throughout space And I dance in the pulse of the veins in your face No dance is too great, no dance is too small, You can look anywhere, for I dance in them all!
(repeat verse 1)
NEW LORD OF THE DANCE SONG words and music by Elise
Permission to perform cheerfully granted to pagans, Morris danc- ers, and their friends, and available on request for performance at paying gigs or on recordings.
This has original music, which I haven't written down yet.
The intro is a violin doing the Morris tune palyed for the dance "Abbott's Bromley", so if you know that one it gives you an idea of the rhythm and pacing.
Written May 1988 after I was kidnapped Beltane morning and
taken to a hidden glen at sunrise…
(This is one of those rare pieces of mine that I do want to hang onto the rights… but I will gladly share with friends.) Get you up, get you up for today there be dancing to do and a new morn to greet In the grey before day hurry down to the place by the shore where the Morris do meet Come follow the fool to the cool of the dell where the Hobby and Betty do prance Come gird up your legs with the ribbons and bells Lay down the old spells of the Lord of the Dance
In the dew of the new morning wait for the sun rising up from the cup of the hill With the dawn coming on sunlight falls like a smile on your face in the place that you fill With your ribbons so rare and your fair voices strong and your kerchiefs so white in your hands Come dance the old dances and sing the old songs May morning belongs to the Lord of the Dance
Now all in your baldrics you dance in a ring round an oak like some folk from the past And you sing and you bring all your children together to learn each in turn from the last May your fire burn bright! Take delight in the feeling you've not come together by chance: Know the Lady of Seasons is turning the wheels Come kick up your heels with the Lord of the Dance!
copyright 1988 Elise Krueger.
NUDE words by Ioseph of Locksley and Aengus MacEdwin (tune: Men of Harlech)
What the use of wearing panties whalebone corsets of your Auntie's boxer shorts and other scanties best of all is nude there's such fun in going bra-less now that it's no longer lawless 'specially if your figure's flawless best of all is nude nude is what you're born in shirts are never torn in underwear and lacy flimsies, garter belts and other whimsies yards of itchy cloth to put your form in ducks all do it, maidens rue it even ancient Picts in Britain blue it going naked's how to do it best of all is nude!
If your garters aren't elastic tie them up in knots fantastic (panty hose is something drastic!) best of all is nude! If you're tired of wearing clotheses shed your garment 'mongst the roses never mind the old bluenoses best of all is nude! Nude is best for ducking! Worst for horses bucking! Moonlit nights will see such sights
that are very best for fooling round .....and elbows!
Nudity is grand to see a well-known antidote to virginity take your clothes off and you'll see: best of all is nude!
words copyright 1982 W.J.Bethancourt III and Ed Hirt
OH TIBIA words by Elise (tune: O Tannenbaum)
Oh tibia, oh fibula articulating in me Oh humerus, despite your name your humor fails to win me Your saving graces seem so few when I am memorizing you Oh tibia, oh fibula articulating in me.
words copyright Elise 1990 (well probably much earlier, but exact date unknown.)
ONCE UPON A MIDNIGHT DREARY poem by Nick Economos
Once upon a midnight dreary, I had made a system query, Asking why my BBS had crashed and locked once more. When I nodded, to my terror, I got a "Fatal System Error" Cause "Unknown" and Type "Unknown" it made me rather sore, I threw my poor computer out the door.
copyright Nick Economos, 1990
THAT PRIME TIME RELIGION words by Brad Hicks, "with a little help from my friends" (tune: That Old Time Religion)
Give me that Prime Time Religion, Give me that Prime Time Religion, Give me that Prime Time Religion! It's good enough for me.
1) Brother Jerry is a cretin
But with all the cash he's gettin' Lotsa folks'll be forgettin It's the "Land of the Free"
2) Brother Robert's church is Crystal
But all the Bible that he's missed'll Make you "hotter than a pistol" But he's good enough for me.
3) Brother Jim and Sister Tammy
Had a show that was a whammy But now they are in Miami Tryin' t'get back on TV.
4) Brother Oral's in his tower,
Trusting in the Lord's power Getting richer by the hour, Now he's got the ransom fee.
5) Brother Earnest is a healer
And not QUITE a wheeler-dealer -- More a jumper and a squealer So he's good enough for me.
6) Then there's good ol' Brother Billy
Bringing souls in willy-nilly. All his trips are kinda silly, But he's good enough for me!
THE DUEL words by Bettie Dendekker (tune: "Kid's Last Fight")
Over on the SF (LIT) echo, Patrick Goodman ( "wannabe" an author, currently working on a TREK novel) insulted John DeChancie (author of the CASTLE series). John challenged Patrick to a duel. The place has been decided on, the ticket and refreshment conces- sion handed out and the weapons chosen. The following is what COULD happen. (BTW–the "FBT" stands for "frigging blue turt- loid". A reference to the cover of one of John's books–which HAD no turtloid in it. It has resulted in a lot of ribbing of John. [for one thing, I MADE one out of Super Sculpy and pre- sented him with it when he was out in California for a visit. –Kay S.])
It was John DeChancie versus Patrick G. In the spot by the blasted oak. Eck was taking bets, busy as could be And Doug M. was selling beer and coke.
Oh, the people gathered there from far and near There was Jo and Bud and DDB. Some had come to gloat and some had come to cheer, And some to see the FBT.
(Chorus) Come on, John. Come on, Pat.
Use those sabers, slash and hack. Come on, John. Come on, Pat. We want to see a tappity, tappity, WHACK!
Oh, John D. was calm, he was quite relaxed While Pat was a nervous wreck. John had the confidence that Patrick lacked Pat G. was in a pile of dreck.
Oh, Pat G. was battered, Pat G. was gored But he couldn't let DeChancie win. Though his brain was reeling, when the people roared He was up on his feet again.
Said DeChancie, scowling, "Don't you know you're thru? I can whip you, just like a child. I'm gonna take this fight, and take your Trek book, too." When he heard that, Pat G. went wild.
Said Pat G., "For that, I'll rend you limb from limb!" And he sprang like Karl Cullinane. He fought as if the Romulans were after him; Pretty soon, poor John D. was slain.
To the crowd that saw it, it was very plain That Pat G. was a champ that day. But the champ would never fight a duel again, CASTLE fans stomped his life away.
Gather 'round, I'm betting even money here That Pat G. found a place in heaven. And he's telling everyone that he gets near How great an author he would have been.
Words copyright Bettie Dendekker, 1990
THE I/O SONG words by Melanthe Alexian
(tune: "Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, It's Off To Work We Go"
I/O, I/O, It's on the bus we go, Save our place - in address space, I/O, I/O.
We byte-byte byte-byte byte-byte-byte, Off more than we can chew; We bit-bit bit-bit bit-bit-bit And crashed the C P U.
(REPEAT CHORUS 1)
(BRIDGE:) And while we poke, we virii jive, For our big joke,
O-Oh-no!, O-oh-no! Eight years' data - over - flow!
(REPEAT CHORUS 1)
Reset, Reset, It's on the net we get, Without delete we will repeat, Reset, Reset.
(REPEAT CHORUS 1)
(FINISH:) I/Oooo, I/Oooo….
Words copyright Sean Foxfire, 6-17-90
THE ITSY BITSY TEENY WEENY……. -Ioseph of Locksley (tune: Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weenie)
She was afraid to come out to the Tourney She was worried that "something might show.." She was afraid to come out to the Tourney And the poor thing did NOT want to go…
(2 - 3 - 4, tell the people what she wore!)
It was an itsy bitsy teeny weenie little rabbit fur bikini That she wore, for the first time, that day. An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini And in her apartment she wanted to stay!
One day in the Kingdom of the Middle It happened at a Tourney one day: The Mongols invaded the Middle But the Middle did not want to play…
(eins - zwei - drei, but the Dark Horde wouldn't die!)
It was an itsy bitsy tiny teenie Nauseating Mongol weenie That they saw, for the first time, that day. An itsy bitsy tiny teenie Nauseating Mongol weenie And the Mongols did NOT go away!
Now the Heralds made up a new Rulebook And to read it is some kind of gas! It's a bureaucrat's dream, this new Rulebook Now NOBODY'S blazon can pass!
(Win - Place - Show, tell the Heralds where to go!)
(insert Bronx cheer!)
I want an itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini On my shield, as my blazon, today! An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini But "that's offensive" the Heralds all say!
I sat down at the Revel last evening To a feast of green meat, and Rat Pie… It was cold, and disgusting, and greasy And I just want to upchuck and die!
(6 - 7 - 8, tell them what was on your plate!)
It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini With a side dish of cold cabbage pie! An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini With the fur on, and NOTHING inside!
(This was written to bug my sweet wife to death with………..heheh!)
words copyright 1989 W.J.Bethancourt III
THE JIMMY SWAGGERT SONG Author unknown (Tune: "Dick Darby The Cobbler") (Recorded: "Celtic Pride: In Strange Form")
Oh, me name is Jimmy Swaggert, I'm a preacher, I used to save souls on TV But they caught me carousing with floozies And they've taken my program from me!
(CHORUS): With me ing twing of an ing thing of an eye do
W'i me ing twing of an ing thing of an eye day, W'i me roo-boo-boo roo-boo-boo randy, And me bankroll gets bigger each day!
Well, when I was a lad, ma would scold me Sayin' "James, keep your hands off your crotch!" Well to do so was "dirty" she told me, But she never said I couldn't watch!
Well, they labeled Jim Bakker a pervert, And they called me a lecher, it's true; Even though I never did nothin' I just asked for a room with a view….
Well, my sorrows they soon will be over, And I'll soon be a rich man again, For I've just sold my story to Playboy, And the movie rights to MGM!
THE REAL OLD TIME RELIGION words by many, many people…. (tune: "Old Time Religion" )
(Chorus): Give me that real old time religion (3X)
It's good enough for me!
We will have a mighty orgy in the honour of Astarte it'll be a mighty party and it's good enough for me!
We will all be saved by Mithras We will all be saved by Mithras slay the Bull and play the Zithras on that Resurrection Day!
I hear Valkyries a-comin In the air their song is comin they forgot the words! They're hummin! but they're good enough for me!
We will venerate Bubastis We will venerate Bubastis If you want in, then just ask us! 'cause that's good enough for me!
We will all bow down to Enlil We will all bow down to Enlil Pass your Cup and get a refill! With bold Gilgamesh the Brave!
We will all see Aphrodite Though she's pretty wild and flighty She will meet us in her nightie And she's good enough for me!
It was good enough for Loki It was good enough for Loki He thinks Thor's a little hokey and that's good enough for me!
Here's to those who copy Conan Here's to those who copy Conan They're just Followers of Onan and that's good enough for me!
We will have a mighty Party In the honor of Astarte Garb your chiton - don't be tardy 'Cause she's good enough for me!
Shall we sing a verse for Venus, Of the Gods she is the meanest, Cause she bit me on my…elbow And it's good enough for me.
We will worship like the Druids, Drinking strange fermented fluids, Running naked through the woo-ids, Coz that's good enough for me.
We will sing a verse for Loki He's the old Norse god of Chaos Which is why this verse don't
rhyme or scan or nothin'
But it's good enough for me…
It was good for Thor and Odin It was good for Thor and Odin Grab an axe and get your woad on! and it's good enough for me!
Azahoth is in his Chaos Azahoth is in his Chaos Now if only he don't sway us That is good enough for me!
If you think that you'll be sav-ed If you think that you'll be sav-ed If you follow Mogen David Then that's good enough for me!
We will sing to Lady Isis She'll stand by us in a crisis And She hasn't raised Her prices And She's good enough for me!
There are those who, when they've got e- Normous problems that are knotty They just take them to Hecate And that's good enough for me!
Was a time, so I've heard tell, a Fine and promising young fella Gave his all to serve Cybele But that's damn well not for me!
Well, she raised an awful flurry When she made the scholars worry Thank the Gods for Margaret Murray! She is good enough for me!
We'll sing praises to Apollo Where the Sun-God leads, I'll follow From Ionia to Gaul-o And that's good enough for me!
Let us sing the praise of Horus As our fathers did before us We're the New Egyptian Chorus And we sing in harmony!
It was good enough for Granny She could throw a double-whammy That would knock you on your fanny And she's good enough for me!
We will gather at our saunas When the spirit comes upon us To perform the Rites of Faunus And that's good enough for me!
We will worship mighty Cthulhu H. P. Lovecraft's big old hoodoo (1930's fiction voodoo….) But that's good enough for me!
Oh the Phillistines abound Oh the Phillistines abound They had the biggest Baals around And that's good enough for me!
Oh, our Spirits will awaken Oh, our Spirits will awaken Watch the Universe a-quakin' Which is Gurdijeff to me!
Let us raise a toast to Bacchus, We will raise a royal ruckus, Then we'll lay us down and…party That's good enough for me.
It was good enough for Buddha, As a god he's kinda cute-a, And he comes in brass or pewta' So he's good enough for me!
Uncle Crowley was a dreamer At the Abbey of Thelema But his magic is a screamer, So it's good enough for me.
When the clouds they are a'rumbling And the thunder is a'grumbling, Then it's Crowley that you're mumbling, And it's good enough for me!
There are some that call it folly When we worship Mother Kali. She may not be very jolly But she's good enough for me.
Shall we sing in praise of Loki, Though he left poor Midgard smokey? Oh, his sense of humor's hokey, But he's good enough for me.
Montezuma liked to start out Rites by carrying a part out That would really tear your heart out, But it's good enough for me!
We will all bow down to Allah For he gave his loyal follow Ers the mighty petro-dollah And that's good enough for me!
We will sacrifice to Yuggoth we will sacrifice to Yuggoth Burn a candle for Yog-Soggoth and the Goat With a Thousand Young!
If your rising sign is Aries You'll be taken by the Fairies Meet the Buddah in Benares where he'll hit you with a pie!
There are people into Voodoo there are people into Voodoo I know I do, I hope you do! and it's good enough for me!
We will read from the Kabahlah We will read from the Kabahlah It won't get us to Valhalla But it's good enough for me!
There are some who practice Shinto there are some who practice Shinto there's no telling what WE'RE into! but that's good enough for me!
We will all sing Hare Krishna We will all sing Hare Krishna It's not mentioned in the Mishna But it's good enough for me!
We will all go to Nirvana We will all go to Nirvana Make a left turn at Urbana And you'll see the Promised Land!
There will be a lot of lovin when we're meetin in our Coven Quit yer pushin and yer shovin So there's room enough for me!
It was good enough for Sappho With her lady on her lap-o She put Lesbos on the map-o With her pagan poetry!
Well the Christians all are humming Cause they say their God is coming, Our God came three times this evening And that's good enough for me.
Some guys have a circumcision On account of their religion, An embarrassing incision Cut just ENOUGH from me!
It was good for old Jehovah He had a son who was a nova! Hey there, Mithras! Move on ova'! Another resurrection Day!
It could be that you're a Parsi It could be that you're a Parsi Don't need a ticket; you get in free And that's good enough for me!
Just like Carlos Castenada Just like Carlos Castenada It'll get you sooner or later And that's good enough for me!
Jerry Falwell thinks he's sav-ed In a lamb's blood he's been lav-ed And HE thinks that I'M deprav-ed But that's good enough for me…
We will all bow down to Dagon We will all bow down to Dagon He still votes for Ronald Reagan And that's good enough for me!
Thanks to great Quetzacoatl And his sacred axolotl And his gift of chocolatl And please pass some down to me!
When old Gerald got it goin' When old Gerald got it goin' All that hidin' turned to showin' And that's good enough for me!
When we all bowed down to Nuit There was really nothin' to it (Alex Sanders made me do it…) But that's good enough for me!
We went off to worship Venus By the Gods! You should have seen us! Now the Clinic has to screen us… But that's good enough for me!
It's not good enough for Reagan It's not good enough for Reagan He's too square to be a Pagan! And that's good enough for me!
Meeting at the Witching Hour By the Bud, and Branch and Flower Folks are raising up the Power And that's where I want to be!
In the sky I hear a hummin' It's the UFO's a-comin' That's not banjos that they're strummin' But it's good enough for me!
Oh we all will follow Buddah Oh we all will follow Buddah And we'll eat no food but Gouda Which is Gouda-nuff for me
We'll sing praises to Apollo; Where the Sun God leads we'll follow ('Though his head's a little hollow) - He's good enough for me!
We will worship Great Cthulhu, We will worship Great Cthulhu, And we'll feed him Mr. Sulu 'Cause that's good enough for me
We all worshipped Dionysus 'Till we ran into a crisis - The bar had raised its prices; That's not good enough for me.
We will go and sing "Hosanna" To our good ol' pal, Gautama, He will never flim or flam ya', And that's good enough for me!
Shall we sing a verse for Thor, Though he leaves the maidens sore? They always come back for more, So he's good enough for me!
It was good enough for Odin Though the tremblin' got forbodin' Then the giants finally strode in, But it's good enough for me.
There's that lusty old Priapus - He's just itching to unwrap us. (He'd do more to us than tap us And that's good enough for me!)
It's the Opera written for us We will all join in the chorus it's the Opera about Boris which is Godunov for me…..!
(This is all -I- have of this little gem, collected from both songbooks and field collecting. Anyone have any more? Please post them for me!)
Joe Bethancourt 1:114/29
I was singing Hari Rami With my friend the Dalai Lama 'Til they dumped us in the slammer But that's good enough for me.
There are those who worship Loki He's the old Norse god of Chaos Which is why this verse does not rhyme..
(pause) Or scan..
And that's good enough for me!
THE SCA HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONG words by - various anonymous folks (tune: "Volga Boatmen")
Happy Birthday! (UHH!) Happy Birthday! (UHH!) Death and gloom and black despair People dying everywhere Happy Birthday! (UHH!) Happy Birthday! (UHH!)
Now you are the age you are Your demise cannot be far
May the candles on your cake burn like cities in your wake
Burn the Castle and storm the keep Kill the Women but SAVE THE SHEEP!
May your deeds with sheep and yaks equal those with sword and axe
Your servants steal, your wife's untrue Your children plot to murder you
They stole your gold, your sword, your house They stole your sheep, but not your spouse
so you're 29 again don't tell lies to your good friend
So another year has passed don't look now they're gaining fast!
Black Death has just struck your town you yourself feel quite run-down
Fear and gloom and darkness but no one found out YOU KNOW WHAT
You're a period cook, its true ask the beetles in the stew
Now your jail-bait days are done let's go out and have some fun!
You must marry very soon baby's due the next full moon
Were I sitting in your shoes I'd go out and sing the blues
Tho you're turning 29 age to you is like fine wine
Now you've lived another year age to you is like stale beer
Long ago your hair turned grey now it's falling out, they say
It's your birthday never fear You'll be dead this time next year
We brought linen, white as cloud Now we'll sit and sew your shroud!
YOU'VE LOST ALL SENSE OF FEELING words by Fernando Vergil, Fred Leiner, and Jeff Howe (tune: "You've Lost That Loving Feeling")
You never close your eyes any more when I hit your helm You've been beat upon by knights of a dozen realms You're trying hard not to show it (turkey) But squire, the marshals all know it
You've lost all sense of feeling All sense of feeling That blow should have you reeling But it's tip, glance, light blow-wo-wo-oh
There's no acknowledgement in your eyes when my blows land true And your mangled helm shows the world what you're coming to You know I just feel like dying (turkey) 'Cause squire, I'm tird of trying
Squire, squire, I'd get down on my knees to you If you would only take the blows like you used to do We had a bout, a bout, a bout that took all day So don't, don't, don't shrug my blows away
Squire (turkey), squire (turkey) I'm begging you please, please, please Please take that blow It's good, I know Please take that blow It's good, I know…
Bring back your sense of feeling Your sense of feeling Bring back your sense of feeling No more tip, glance, light Or you should not fight any more
Bring back your sense of feeling Marshals' courts aren't appealing Bring back your sense of feeling No more tip, glance, light blow-wo-wo-oh
–end of file—