Filk songs


Archer's Lament, The Artan's Toy Ballad of Sir Charlie, The Birthday Dirge Bjorn the Viking Celtic Ring of Fire Circles Crusader's Song, The Day the Table Died, The Do Virgins Taste Better Early Mournin' Dew English Vice Favor, The Fop Hunt Four Blind Mice Gentry Are Sleeping, The Get Me to the Site On Time Heralds Said to Me, The	If I Only Had A Bard Joy to the World Local SCA Long Distance Squire Lutefisk and Yams My Favorite Things Ode to Joy Old Time Religion Rhino, The Road to Estrella, The Signs Sitting 'Round the Fire Stranger in the Camp Supercalafragalistic Thank God I'm a Nobleman Three Blind Laurels Viking's Christmas Carol, A Welsh History 101 Woad of Harlech


The Archer's Lament by Yitzhak ibn Yoshua filk: Greensleeves I am an archer without peer, My arrows faithfully find their mark But when I beckon a comely lass She flies away like a skittish lark. Oh, lonely shall I spend my days. Never to find my true love. Fighters always get the girls And leave nothing for us but the crumbs. My aim is true with a lady love From twenty yards, my shaft hits the spot While fighters flail 'round with hunks of steel To compensate for what they've not got. My skin is softer than purest silk My body free of disfigurement. So why do ladies near and far Seek victims of dismemberment? I've killed ten score of the bravest men With arrows right between their eyes. But let a swordsman come in the room And all of the ladies will let out sighs. My skill in archery is my life But ladies fair I have never scored. So I've put for sale my finest bow, And bought a big bloody bastard sword.


Artan's Toy by Ceara ni Neill mka Alexandria Long filk: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Good Lord Artan MacDarach Had a very big ego And if you ever saw him, He would say that he had grown! He liked to build big toys, So he built a trebusche. Thought he could hurl some TP When he brought it out to play. Then one winter solstice eve Lord Stephen set us right. "Lord Artan let that TP fly, It hit my helm and was not light!" Then all the fighters cheered him, And we shouted out with glee. "Well," said Artan MacDarach, "That's medieval history."


The Ballad of Sir Charlie by Sir Cipriano d'Alvarez mka Guy Bradley filk: The Man Who Never Returned
Let me tell you the story 'bout a man named Charlie How he signed his life away He put ten bucks in the mail, sent it off to California And he joined the SCA. Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned He may wait forever for his first newsletter He's the man who never returned. His first event was down in Trimaris Oh perhaps it was Aphar All the lords and ladies and the knights and squires Said, "That man, he's gonna go far." Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned He said, "This is the life, so goodbye to my wife." He's the man who never returned. His next event was called Red Tower Where he earned his battle star Well he cleared the field of ev'ry contender And he wasn't even breathing hard. Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned Now he's driving 'cross the land, looking for some more rattan. He's the man who never returned. His third event was at Iron Mountain And there he became a Lord And before he knew, he was a squire too By the virtue of his sword. Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned All the time remaining he spends in training; He's the man who never returned. By number four he had earned even more He had his own Barony He was now known as Captain Baron Squire Lord Charlie OVO and OGB Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned He found the hardest fighting was reports that needed writing He's the man who never returned.	By number five it came as no surprise When Charlie became a knight With seventeen ladies hanging onto his collar It was also an eventful night. Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned With seventeen ladies in a two man cabin He's the man who never returned. His sixth event was at Bryn Madoc At the Collegium Well before he left he was handed a Laurel Earl Marshall and a Pelican. Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned He could spend twenty years just in meeting with the peers He's the man who never returned. Sir Charlie said, "I've won ev'ry honor I've earned most everything Crown List is tomorrow down in White Buck Forest Guess I'll try my hand at King." Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned He may drive forever looking for Jesup, Gorgia. He's the man who never returned. The field down in Jesup was wet and was marshy And there Charlie met his end The last we could spy was his sword held high As he sank beneath the fen. Oh will he ever return, oh no he'll never return And his fate is still unlearned He may fight forever in the swamps of Jesup. He's the man who never returned. He may fight forever in the swamps of Jesup. He's the man who never returned.


The SCA Happy Birthday Song, otherwise known as the Birthday Dirge filk: The Volga Boatmen Chorus after every verse: Happy Birthday! (UHH!) Happy Birthday! (UHH!)
1. Death and gloom and black despair People dying everywhere 2. May the candles on your cake Burn like cities in your wake 3. Fear and gloom and darkness yet No one found out you know what 4. You're a period cook, its true Ask the beetles in the stew 5. Now your jail-bait days are done Let's go out and have some fun! 6. Were I sitting in your shoes I'd go out and sing the blues 7. Now you've lived another year Age to you is like stale beer 8. Long ago your hair turned grey Now it's falling out, they say 9. Indigestion's what you get From the enemies you 'et 10. This one lesson you must learn FIRST you pillage, THEN you burn 11. While you eat your birthday stew We will sack a town for you 12. Death will come before the dawn Now's the time to party on! 13. Rape the horses while they sleep, See the women wail and weep 14. Your ship of fortune arrives at last Plague death flag nailed to its mast 15. You hear the patter of small feet Midget thieves have robbed your keep 16. Your daughter's face could crack a mirror Your firstborn son is acting queer 17. Burn the castle, storm the keep Kill the women but save the sheep! 18. May your deeds with sheep and yaks Equal those with sword and axe 19. Your servants steal, your wife's untrue Your children plot to murder you 20. They stole your gold, your sword, your house They stole your sheep, but not your spouse 21. So another year has passed Don't look now they're gaining fast! 22. The Black Death has struck your town You yourself feel quite run-down	23. We brought you linen, white as clouds Now we'll sit and sew your shroud! 24. So far death you have bypassed Don't look back it's gaining fast 25. I'm a leper, can't you see Have a birthday kiss from me 26. Burn, then rape by firelight Add romance to life tonight! 27. Now you've lived another year, And your death is drawing near. 28. Raise your cup of bitter cheer, Make the barman eat his ear 29. We like children, yes we do Baked or broiled or in a stew. 30. Famine, fear, and fire and flood, Can't keep your face out of the mud. 31. News that fills our hearts with fear: They've proved cancer's caused by beer 32. Just be glad the friends you've got Haven't found out you-know-what! 33. Birthdays come but once a year Marking time as Death draws near 34. Now you've reached the age you are Your demise cannot be far 35. Like the wrinkles in your lace Time is etched upon your face 36. When you've reached your age you know That the mind is first to go 37. Now you've lived another year And your death is drawing near 38. It's your birthday; never fear; You'll be dead this time next year 39. Children dying everywhere Women crying in despair 40. Typhoid, plague and polio Coffins lined up in a row 41. May the children in the street Be your barbequeing meat 42. Your friends are here, your enemies too, We just don't know who is who.... 43. May the women that you see Not have sense enough to flee


Bjorn, the Viking by Eogan Og MacLaren filk: Ramblin' Man by The Allman Brothers My father raided all the shores of England He wound up on the wrong end of a sheep I was born in the stern of a longboat Rolling on the waves of the North Sea. Chorus Thor, I am Bjorn, the Viking Man I try to make a living by raiding where I can So when your homes are burning I hope you understand That I am Bjorn the Viking Man. I'm sailing towards some foreign shore this morning It doesn't really matter where I land I'll steal their gold and burn their homes no matter who they are Rape each girl and murder every man. Chorus I'm plundering a coastal town in Iceland And drinking mead til I can drink no more I'll sing along with a battle song between every mug My belly full and my arms around a whore. Chorus Well someday I'll wind up in Valhalla When in battle I am overcome But until that day I'll sail away to rape, burn, and plunder So all you puny weaklings better run! Chorus (ad nauseaum)


Celtic Ring of Fire by "Those Wacky Dahlradians" filk: Ring of Fire, tune originally recorded by Johnny Cash When Caesar came to Albion He vowed to conquer all he saw. We drove old Caesar form our shore The legions muttered, "Nevermore!" Chorus He fell down into a Celtic ring of fire He went down, down, down, but the flames leapt higher! And he burned, burned burned, that Roman tyrant, That Roman tyrant! A Roman in a wickerman Scrams like only Romans can We danced around his funeral pyre We gave him to the God of Fire! Chorus When smashing down the walls of Rome Brennus drove his lesson home! "Woe to the vanquished" was his word! Upon the scales, he threw his sword. Chorus When Boudicca did lead the clannes They slaughtered Romans in the glens She chose to die upon her feet Than live like Romans on their knees! Chorus


Circles By Gwen Zak Filk: Windmills In days gone by, when the world was much younger Men wondered at spring, born of winter's cold strife Wondered at the games of the moon and the Sunlight, They saw there the Lady and Lord of all life. Chorus And around and around and around turns the good Earth All things must change as the seasons go by We are the children of the Lord and the Lady Whose mysteries we know, but we'll never know why. In all lands the people were tied with the good Earth Plowing and sowing as the seasons declared Waiting to reap of the rich golden harvest Knowing her laugh in the joys that they shared. Chorus Through Flanders and Wales and the green land of Ireland In kingdoms of England and Scotland and Spain Circles grew up all along the wild coastline And worked for the land with the sun and the rain. Chorus Circles for healing and working the weather Circles for knowing the Moon and the Sun Circles for thanking the Lord and the Lady Circles for dancing the dance never done. Chorus And we who reach for the stars in the heavens Turning our eyes from the meadows and groves Still live in the love of the Lord and the Lady The greater the Circle, the more the love grows. Chorus Chorus


Closer to Daylight by Ceara ni Neill, �1999 filk: Closer to Eleven by Lyra and Rael of Preachain filk: Closer to Fine by the Indigo Girls We traveled to the Fool's War of Meridies With many bottles of good brew And the meat of Ailsun's deer Pop Chiv said the party would be a big one. So we set out with our mugs to have much fun This was war practice, after all. Yeah..right. Into our camp came friends from the Consortium. With good songs & good cheer within their hearts Then the Period Police appeared to wreck our campin' But Lord Uilleagh chased them off with his "O Narseman" He is Spearcatcher, after all. Chorus We started at our camp And moved on to their camp And everywhere we reveled We raised the noise level And the more I think about it and look back in time, I wish that I had brought more wine. And I must keep an eye on the time, The closer it gets to daylight. The closer it gets to daylight. I need to seek the Herald of Meridies And bring to Baron Hywel my tales of woe I tried to get my name passed And sent in my device They get shot down with comments that are not nice But it's only paper after all. And I must submit it til I get it right, The closer it gets to daylight. Sir Bryce stumbled by the fire at 3 am To seek solace in Drambouie and to drum with some good friends A dancer lost a tassel, it got stuck in Gryffri's ear I went over to him and said, "Have a beer, Hips do project things after all." Chorus Lord Malcolm and Sir Theatyn soon joined us Sir Fiachna told us legends of the Yam. Someone said "potato", Then he said "po-tah-to". And then the knight caught Malcolm drinking beer, So he bade us all goodnight. Chorus


Crusader's Song By: Duke Conn McNeill Chorus I'm for the Holy Land sailing, To win back Jerusalem's walls I'm for the Holy Land sailing, And I'll win my fortune or a martyr I'll fall. As my ship sails out I watch the far coastline, Leaving my kinsman my heart is full pained I've traded all for the cross at my shoulder, No land for a third son so I'm away Chorus As I look around me at the men on the benches, Their eyes are like mine so I know their hearts pain I sing them a song of bravery and battle, Now their eyes shine like the keen polished blade Chorus We're for the Holy Land sailing, To win back Jerusalem's walls We're for the Holy Land sailing, And we'll win our fortune or as martyrs we'll fall I followed King Richard to Sicily island, Joanna's dowry against Tancred prevailed Now a fortune in silver, a new wife hath Richard, I've a swift horse and a fine coat of maile Chorus At landfall in Cypress they refused Berengaria, Richard in anger has answered in steel Now the crown of Cypress he's added to England's, I've added knighthood's gold spurs to my heels Chorus I followed the banner to battle at Targrin, Held it aloft when it's bearer was slain We've given Richard a tower o'er the city, He's given me rank and a full captain's pay Chorus On the coastline at Tarsus we met with the Paynim, We won the battle though many men fell One was a baron with lands that need tending, Now they are mine and I'll tend them well Chorus Now I sit in court over Christian and Muslim, I've a strong keep and soldiers ten score King Richard's army has sailed back to England, I've said farewell for I'll see them nay more You see I'm in the Holy Land staying; to guard my own castle walls I'm in the Holy Land staying, I've won my fortune so farewell to all.


The Day the Table Died filk: American Pie, by Don McClean 'Twas so long ago, but I still remember How the legends used to make me smile... And I knew given half a chance I'd kill so many with my lance, And maybe I'd be famous for a while. So death and bloodshed I'd deliver, With every arrow from my quiver. All this bloody hassle, Just to defend one castle! I remember how he shed a tear When he learned of Lance and Guenivere And something touched me way down here, The day the Table died. Chorus Hail, hail, to the fellas in mail! Slaying dragons, saving damsels, chasing after the Grail. We fought off evil, til our faces were pale Wondering if there was a chance we might fail, Could there be a chance we might fail? Hast thou read the Book of Merlin, With its stories that Sir Rod of Serling Could have penned for the Twilight Zone? Dost thou believe in legend'ry, And all the tales of chivalry Like the one about the Longsword and the Stone? Well, Lancelot came from Par-ee To serve in Arthur's calvary He sweated off his tail, to wear the royal mail. When Lance had won his confidence He met Queen Guenivere by chance And melted down his iron pants The day the Table died. For several years, Lance and the Queen Had kept their meetings clandestine Finding ways to be alone. 'Twas on a fateful summer's day When Mordred found them in the hay And the Frenchman knew his cover had been blown. Arthur cried, "Swear by Excalibur, That you truly did not lie with her!" The notion was absurd. Lance said not a word. And so the knight, no longer chaste, Unto his native soil he raced Left Guenivere alone to face The day the Table died. Chorus Convicted of a grave offense By Mordred's damning evidence, Guenivere was set to burn. Arthur loathed his bastard son For all his work had been undone But he vowed the tables would be turned. Having Lance arrive to save the day He carried Guenivere away The king was so relieved. His true love was reprieved! Then Guenivere became a nun And Lancelot had no more fun And Mordred soon was on the run The day the Table died. Chorus I stand guard at this castle door, Though Arthur reigns not anymore Camelot's a memory. It does my heart good to recall The mighty kingdom's rise and fall And the space it occupies in history. The spirit of those days, it seems, Continues only in our dreams For there we can enjoy it; Let no one dare destroy it! One prophecy of days of yore Says Arthur shall arise once more To make all as it was before The day the Table died. Chorus Chorus


Do Virgins Taste Better by R. Farran filk: The Irish Washerwoman A dragon has come to our village today. We've asked him to leave, but he won't go away. Now he's talked to our king and they worked our a deal: No more homes will he burn and no crops will he steal. Now there is but one catch, we dislike it a bunch: Twice a year he invites him a virgin to lunch. Well, we've no other choice, so the deal we'll respect, But we can't help but wonder and pause to reflect: Chorus Do virgins taste better than those who are not? Are they salty, or sweeter, more juicy or what? Do you savor them slowly? Gulp them down on the spot? Do virgins taste better than those who are not? Now we'd like to be shed you, and many have tried But no one can get though your thick, scaly hide. We hope that some day, some brave knight will come by, 'Cause we can't wait around 'til you're too fat to fly. Now you have such good taste in your women for sure, They always are pretty, they always are pure. But your notion of dining, it makes us all flinch For your favorite entree is barbecued wench. Chorus Now we've found a solution, it works out so neat, If you insist on nothing but virgins to eat. No more will our number ever grow small, We'll simply make sure there's no virgins at all! Chorus


Early Mournin' Dew by Mary Taran of Glastobury filk: Leavin' on a Jet Plane Oh, your shield is hacked from many a blow, I'm standing here, though you don't know, I hate to wake you up to see you die. But the shield wall is breaking, it's battered and torn, The herald's calling , he's blowing his horn Already I am mournin' for your hide. Chorus So wake up and fight for me, Tell me that you'll die for me. Hurry and get armored up and go. You'll go out there and get slain. I don't know if you will fight again. Oh, my lord, you have to go. There's so many times they've knocked you down, So many times you've lost a round, I tell you now, they don't mean a thing. Every battered helm is worn by you. Every mace they swing, they swing at you. If you come back, I'll mend your chain mail rings. Chorus Now the time has come to wake you One more time must I shake you You soon will be deep within the fray. Think about the days to come While you go out there all alone, About the time I won't have to say: Chorus


English Vice By Mary Spencer Filk: Edewiss (from "The Sound of Music") English vice, English vice Ropes and chains are my playthings Nipple clips, canes and whips Bring the pain that I beg for Leather and latex are my delight My delight and pleasure. English vice, English vice Whip and beat me forever!


The Favor by Ceara ni Neill mka Alexandria Long filk: Rossann nel Coir (recorded by Scartaglen) Ireland's sun is shining today But my heart does not bask in it's rays For my lover has gone off to battle And he carried the favor of fair Faye. Promised he me never to leave, But to steal his heart Faye did achieve Now he leaves me, alone, to my own fate Since for her my love he did betray. Come they, come they, suitors aplenty; I send, I send them away For my lover, he's gone into battle, Though he carried the favor of fair Faye. Ireland's sun is shining today, But my heart does not bask in its rays. For my brothers have gone into battle For to gain my honor thrown away. And I went to the battlefield today And from his belt, pulled the favor of fair Faye.


Fop Hunt by Lyra and Rael filk: Moondance It's a marvelous night for a fop hunt All their lace in the moonlight will glow. A fantabulous night to make fops run Through the barbed wire fences so low. And all their blood will be flowin' When I sever their heads! You know they won't be goin' 'Cause they'll be dead...oh, so dead! Chorus Can we just have one more fop hunt, Danu, tonight? Can we just make some more fops run, Danu, tonight? Well I wanna take heads with you tonight, I can't wait for the mornin' to come. And I know if I hold my spear just right, Then straight into the point fops will run. And all their spleens will be ruptured And their entrails will flow I'll slash their femoral arteries Then they'll run really slow! Chorus Well I'm walkin' around with a fop's head With his testicles shoved up his nose And I know I'll complete my collection With the rest of our buttery-butt foes And every time I kill one I just tremble and shake You know it feels so good To put their head on a stake! Chorus


*Four Blind Mice* Four blind mice are dead Four blind mice are dead See how they lie See how they lie Four dead bodies on the ground Four dead bodies on the ground Poor dead mice Poor dead mice


The Gentry Are Sleeping Also known as The Hospitaller's Song filk: When Johnny Comes Marching Home The Gentry are sleeping, one by one, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, one by one, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, one by one, And no one is having very much fun And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, two by two, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, two by two, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, two by two, It's a terribly period thing to do. And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, three by three, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, three by three, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, three by three, I think that's my hand on my knee. And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, four by four, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, four by four, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, four by four, On the bed and on the floor And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, five by five, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, five by five, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, five by five, With everybody except their wives And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, six by six, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, six by six, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, six by six, With (insert name) up (his/her) usual tricks And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, seven by seven, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, seven by seven, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, seven by seven, I think I've died and gone to heaven. And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, eight by eight, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, eight by eight, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, eight by eight, Hurry up (insert name) or you'll be late. And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, nine by nine, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, nine by nine, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, nine by nine, I don't know, it must be the wine And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. The Gentry are sleeping, ten by ten, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, ten by ten, Oyez, Oyez The Gentry are sleeping, ten by ten, No one's asleep and it's morning again. And the Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can.


The Heralds Said to Me by Ioseph and Cherie Ruadh of Locksley filk: The Twelve Days of Christmas The first time I sent my device, the heralds said to me: It violates the Rule of Three." The next time I tried it, the heralds said to me: "We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three." The third time I tried, and the heralds said to me: "We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three." Another time I tried, and the heralds said to me: "We haven't got it, We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three. " The fifth time I tried it, the heralds said to me: (monastic chant) "In a decision rendered by the College of Arms on August 1rst, A.S. V, it was decided that this type of heraldic design was not appropriate to the aims and intentions of the Corporate Body. Holy, Holy, Holy! ...We haven't got it, We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three." I tried it a sixth time and the heralds said to me: "It's against the Rule of Tincture, "In a decision rendered by the College of Arms on August 1rst, A.S. V, it was decided that this type of heraldic design was not appropriate to the aims and intentions of the Corporate Body. Holy, Holy, Holy! We haven't got it, We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three. (Angrily) The last time I sent my device, the heralds said to me: (Smugly) "Someone else has got it, "It's against the Rule of Tincture, "In a decision rendered by the College of Arms on August 1rst, A.S. V, it was decided that this type of heraldic design was not appropriate to the aims and intentions of the Corporate Body. Holy, Holy, Holy! ...We haven't got it, We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three!


Get Me to the Site on Time Filk: Get Me to the Church on Time (from "My Fair Lady") I've got a tourney in the morning I'll meet other fighters in their prime. I'll take the field With sword axe and shield Just get me to the site on time. I've got a mission in the morning Bang heads together 'til they chime. I've oiled my curaisses Been to fighter practice Now get me to the site on time! If I am sleeping, don't let me snore If I've been drinking, pick me off the floor! The arts competition's in the morning, My entry's really looking fine. Beautifully presented And well-documented Now get me to the site on time. I'm well provisioned for the morning, Packed up and ready for the climb. Supplies are in good shape Maps, beer, and duct tape Now get me to the site on time. If I am sleeping, don't let me snore If I've been wenching, kick them out of the door! I'm leaving early in the morning Even before the sun will shine. I'll get there (I'm hopin') Before the list opens So get me to the site I'm gonna drive all night For God's sake get me to the site on time!


The Heralds Said to Me by Ioseph and Cherie Ruadh of Locksley filk: The Twelve Days of Christmas The first time I sent my device, the heralds said to me: It violates the Rule of Three." The next time I tried it, the heralds said to me: "We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three." The third time I tried, and the heralds said to me: "We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three." Another time I tried, and the heralds said to me: "We haven't got it, We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three. " The fifth time I tried it, the heralds said to me: (monastic chant) "In a decision rendered by the College of Arms on August 1rst, A.S. V, it was decided that this type of heraldic design was not appropriate to the aims and intentions of the Corporate Body. Holy, Holy, Holy! ...We haven't got it, We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three." I tried it a sixth time and the heralds said to me: "It's against the Rule of Tincture, "In a decision rendered by the College of Arms on August 1rst, A.S. V, it was decided that this type of heraldic design was not appropriate to the aims and intentions of the Corporate Body. Holy, Holy, Holy! We haven't got it, We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three. (Angrily) The last time I sent my device, the heralds said to me: (Smugly) "Someone else has got it, "It's against the Rule of Tincture, "In a decision rendered by the College of Arms on August 1rst, A.S. V, it was decided that this type of heraldic design was not appropriate to the aims and intentions of the Corporate Body. Holy, Holy, Holy! ...We haven't got it, We upped the fees, We changed the forms, And it violates the Rule of Three!


If I Only Had a Bard �1997 by Ceara ni Neill filk: If I Only Had a Brain (from the Wizard of Oz), with added chorus In my hair I would wear flowers And he'd sing songs by the hour If I only had a bard; Even if his jokes are corny He would always make me...happy If I only had a bard! Chorus And a heigh and a ho, and a heigh, nonny no, If I only had a bard! And a heigh and a ho, and a heigh, nonny no, And he always would be...happy! Where I sit on I'd wear rabbit I'd put woad on out of habit If I only had a bard. I could dance around with flutes And maybe tighten up my glutes If I only had a bard! Chorus We'd hold contests during dinner For to see who is more limber, If I only had a bard. I'd eat beef and he'd eat sweet-meats But he'd always keep his beard neat, If I only had a bard! Chorus


Joy to the World filk: Joy to the World Joy to the world, for war is come And we can fight again! Let every foe know fear and woe And swords and axes swing And swords and axes swing And swords, and swords and axes swing. We'll rule the world with axe and mace And heaven up above Let battle cries ring fierce and high For war is what we love For war is what we love For war, for war is what we love! Joy to the world for war is come With sword and arrow's flight We'll maim and slay throughout the day Debauch and loot at night Debauch and loot at night Debauch, debauch and loot at night!


Local SCA by somebody in Three Rivers Barony(?) filk: God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen Arrest these merry gentles, nay it would be so unkind, If you'll but wait a moment sir, we will relieve your mind. We are not escaped lunatics, so kindly us unbind, For we are your local SCA, SCA For we are your local SCA. These men aren't wearing dresses, sir, those are not panty hose. No, those are tights and tunics, sir, they are medieval clothes. And men were really macho then, as everybody knows, So please do not look upon us that way, For we are your local SCA. We recreate past ages, sir, and that is all we do. Please give our swords and knives to us. We'd like our axes, too. Return us all our weapons, sir, the act you will not rue For we mostly use them for display, display. For we are your local SCA. We really are not dangerous, although we like to fight. We do it on a tourney field, you see, so it's all right. And we wear lots of armor, too, like any noble knight, And use our wooden sticks to whale away, whale away For we are your local SCA. Oh, we pavanne in public sir, the horse bransle do also. Full many a fine feast attend and to a revel go. And all that night we sing and drink, for free the mead doth flow, Then drive four hundred miles the next day, the next day, For we are your local SCA. We have a King and Prince who do our loyalty command I'm from Forth Castle shire fair, the finest in the land. And we are on our way to court, but not the one you planned. Oh, please let us go upon our way, our way. For we are your local SCA. Arrest these merry gentles, nay, discretion you should use. For we are lords and ladies, so how can you refuse? I say, that is a lady, sir, you should not her abuse. It is not genteel to act this way, this way, And lock up your local SCA!


Long Distance Squire by Genevieve Mccullum du Caen and Rei Galen of Bristol filk: Cat's in the Cradle Squired a lad just the other day Gave him his belt in the usual way. But there were wars to fight and men to slay He made a sword while I was away. And he was fightin' 'fore I knew it and as he grew He'd say, "I'm gonna be like you, Sir, You know I'm gonna be like you." Chorus And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon Little squire boy and the man in the moon. When you comin' here Sir, I don't know when But we'll get together then, squire; You know we'll have a good fight then. He became a Lord just the other day. He said, "Thanks for the shield, Sir; come on, lets play. Can you teach me to kill?" I said, "Not today I've got a lot to do." He said, "That's okay." As he walked away, his smile never dimmed. It said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah. You know I'm gonna be like him." Chorus He came from Pennsic just the other day So much like a man, I just had to say "Squire, I'm proud of you. Can you fight for a while?" He shook his head and he said with a smile, "What I'd really like sir is to borrow your tent, please; See you later, will you leave us please?" Chorus He's long been a knight, he's traveled far away, Saw him here just the other day. "I want to learn that snap blow if you don't mind", He said "I'd teach you Sir, if I could find the time. But the new crown's a hassel and the squires are new. But it's sure nice sparring with you, Sir, It's been sure nice sparring with you." And as the King walked away it occured to me, He'd grown up just like me, yeah, My squire was just like me. Chorus


Lutefisk and Yams by THL Ulf Gunnarsson filk: Green Eggs & Ham Hark and ware, oh Warrior! Weird of Swen now hear you. How good Lars he harried, Pestered with questions. Late at meadhall light burned; Lars did strive to largen Belly with a bowl of Boiled fish his mission. And some chunks of chicken, Cheese and bread and peasoup, Finally pounds of pancakes Paired with lingon berries. Smallish snack he snuck while Woozy wife lay snoozing. When inside there wandered Forth a fellow northman. Lars did greet him greatly For he knew the gruesome Tales of host who hasten Travellers forth from doorstep. Lars did ask his name then. "I am Sven," he mentioned. "Sven I am," he stated. "Do you like lutefisk and yams?" "Nay" said Lars, "though largely Like I food most goodly, but I do not like lutefisk and yams, I do not like them, Sven I am." "Ah," said Sven most sagely. "Would you eat them on a trip? Would you eat them on your ship?" "Nay," said Lars, "though largely Like I food most goodly, but I would not eat them on a trip. I would not eat them on my ship. I do not like lutefisk and yams, I do not like them, Sven I am." "Ah," said Sven most sagely. "might you eat them on a raid? Might you eat them with a maid?" "Nay," said Lars most strongly, "Like I food most goodly, but I would not eat them on a raid, I would not eat them with a maid, I would not eat them on a trip, I would not eat them on my ship. I do not like lutefisk and yams, I do not like them, Sven I am." "Hmmm," said Sven, "Good fellow, would you eat them on the field? Would you eat them off your shield?" "Nay," said Lars most wrothly, "Like I food most goodly, but I would not eat them on a raid, I would not eat them with a maid, I would not eat them on a trip, I would not eat them on my ship, I would not eat them on the field, I would not eat them off my shield. I do not like lutefisk and yams, I do not like them, Sven I am." Sven then looked most crafty. He then slyly stated: "Would you eat them served up cold? Would you eat them if I paid you gold?" "Well," said Lars, "since largely, Like I food most goodly ... I might like lutefisk and yams, I might like them, Sven I am." Sven produced this Swedish yam and lutefisk sample. Lars did test this tasty Treat then longly pondered. Stoutly, Lars then stated: "I despise lutefisk and yams. I despise them, Sven I am. I will not eat them served up cold. I will not eat them if you pay me gold. I will not eat them on the field, I will not eat them off my shield. I will not eat them on a raid, I will not eat them with a maid, I will not eat them on a trip, And I will NOT eat them on MY ship! I do not like lutefisk and yams, I do not like them, Sven I am." And he slew Sven.


My Favorite Things (filk) from "The Sound of Music" Heaters and broadswords and targets and maces Winces of pain on my enemies' faces Ladies, whose praises a noble bard sings These are a few of my favorite things Winning in melees, avoiding a fair fight Revels that last until the morning's first light Cutting down nobles and princes and kings These are a few of my favorite things Chorus When the mail breaks When the helm rings When I'm feeling sad I simply remember my favorite things And then I don't hurt so bad Watching my foemen as they tumble down Fighting for money and winning the crown Looting the fallen of their golden rings These are a few of my favorite things (Mongol version) Killing the townsfolk and ravishing maidens Bringing home booty in carts heavy laden Sacking the country and killing the king These are a few of my favorite things


Ode to Joy (filk) Archers make ignoble foe men Shoot at you then run away God d#/@! mother f#@!ing bowmen They're the ones I love to slay Run and chase them catch and mace them Mix and spread them like patie God put bowmen here to bug me Jeez I wish they'd go away!


Old Time Religion filk: traditional hymn Chorus Give me that old time religion, Give me that old time religion, Give me that old time religion, That's good enough for me! 1. Meeting at the witching hour By the bud and branch and flower Folks are raising up the power That's where I want to be! 2. We shall worship with the Druids Drinking strange fermented fluids Running naked through the woo-ids And that's good enough for me. 3. Let us gather in our saunas When the Spirit comes upon us To perform the rites of faunas, That's good enough for me! 4. I'll rise early in the morning When the sun gives me the warning That the solar age is dawning Well, that's good enough for me. 5. Let us go and worship Hermes; Got a staff that crawls with wormies That could knock out all the germies, He's good enough for me. 6. We went off to worship Venus And by gosh, you should have seen us! Now the clinic has to screen us, But she's good enough for me! 7. We will pray to Aphrodite Even though she's rather flighty And they say she wears no nighty And that's good enough for me. 8. If your rising sign is Aries, You'll be taken by the fairies Meet the Buddha in Benares, Where he'll hit you with a pie. 9. Good old Thor, the god of Thunder Really helped us get our plunder Tho' his head's still truly dunder, He's still good enough for me. 10. We will pray with those Egyptians Build pyramids to put our crypts in Cover subways with inscriptions, And that's good enough for me. 11. Oh, old Odin we will follow And in fighting we will wallow 'Til we wind up in Valhallo And that's good enough for me. 12. It was good enough for Loki, It was good enough for Loki, He thinks Thor's a little hokey, But it's good enough for me. 13. If you think religion's awful And you've really had your crawful Just be sure your acts are lawful Or they'll all be after thee. 14. Pan and all the satyrs brayed in Chorus when they saw a maiden "What a faith to get a-laid in!" And it's good enough for me. 15. Well, Pan's pipes got plugged last summer And it really was a bummer. Finally had to call a plumber, But it's good enough for me.


The Rhino �2002 by Bastiano Francisco filk: The Boxer, with apologies to Paul Simon I am just a fighter, And my story�s often told, I have squandered my existence, For a chance to win the kingdom with a mighty blow� Oh what a jest, For a rhino calls what he wants to call, And disregards the rest� Mmmm-hmmmmm�. When I walked out on to the tourney field, I was no more than a toy, In the company of white belts, And the Dukes and Counts and squires that were standing there, All calling blows, quick to lose their lower quarters, Then down to their knees they�d go, Save the Rhino who was shrugging every blow� Chorus Li-la-light, li-la-li-la-li-la-light, li-la-light, li-la-li-la-la-la-la-li-la-la-la-la-light... Looking only for fair fighting, I was entered in the list, And I drew the Rhino, In his pickle barrel plastic shining bright and blue, I do declare, that he looked so very ugly that I had to stop and stare� La-la-la-la-light�. Li-la-light, li-la-li-la-li-la-light, li-la-light, li-la-li-la-la-la-la-li-la-la-la-la-light... Then I�m laying on my greatest blows, And wishing he would fall, To the ground, But his armour obviously was impeding me, Cheating me, of the win� In the clearing stands a white belt, And a marshal by his trade, And he carries the reminders, Of every crown he�s won before, But still he has to cry out, At this disgrace to the game, "You are beaten, you are beaten!" But the Rhino still remains Mmmm-hmmmmm�. Li-la-light, li-la-li-la-li-la-light, li-la-light, li-la-li-la-la-la-la-li-la-la-la-la-light...


The Road to Estrella by Gunnar Redbeard filk: The Streets of El Paso I once set out on the road to Estrella With forty nine lords to the Great Desert War. We'd chartered a school bus by pooling resources And packed it with more junk and more junk and more. We finally got loaded and went down the freeway 'Twas well after midnight and we were all dead Forty-nine hours seemed like such an adventure You couldn�t have imagined the journey ahead! Our shields and our armor were piled in the isle A pole arm was jammed in my eye-yi-yi-yi We crawled up each hill like a snail with arthritis But boy, on the downgrade that school bus would fly! Just try to sleep on a bright yellow school bus With forty-nine lords and a trainload of gear. Careening along without padding or cushions For forty-nine hours sure is hell on the rear! We'd all read the paper and all done the puzzle We'd talked ourselves hoarse and could say nothing more. My ankles are swollen, my knees are like rubber By the time we arrive I'll be ruined for sure! Our shields and our armor were piled in the isle A pole arm was jammed in my eye-yi-yi-yi If I have to eat one more time at MacDonald's I'll go berserk and somebody will die! The second day out found us somewhere in Kansas Or perhaps Oklahoma, or Texas, who knows? We no longer cared if we made any progress We followed the highway wherever it goes. The silence was grim and the odor could mother Empty food wrappers were piled everywhere Half of us hated the sight of each other The other half simply was too numb to care. Our shields and our armor were piled in the isle A pole arm was jammed in my eye-yi-yi-yi We finally broke down somewhere outside of Tucson And I said, "Aw, hell!" and decided to fly! No more will I take the road to Estrella Although it was grand and Exciting, I'm sure Forty nine hours on a school bus is torture And I'm just no that desperate to go to a war. Since I've returned I am feeling much better I have recovered and I'm doing fine And now I can laugh at my little adventure But when I see a school bus, chills run down my spine!


Signs by Lord Erik MacSwaser, inspired by Char ibn Bashar filk: Signs And the sign says, "Long haired freaky people, come on over and play." So I looked around and scratched my head and said "It's just the SCA." They said, "You look like a fine outstanding war band, we think you'll do." So I put on my hat and said "Imagine that, me fighting with you." Chorus Signs, signs, where'd they put the signs? Blocked behind the scenery, so hard to find. Drive here don't drive there, Where'd they put the signs? And the sign says, "At the next intersection, you must take a right. Then just keep on driving, you can't miss the site. They put up the signs to help me find places that I'd never been But I got lost, those signs were so small. Man, they were some kind of sin. Chorus Well hey now mister, can't you see? You've got to be a peer of the realm to get seated. You can't watch, no you can't eat. You ain't supposed to be here. And the sign says, "You have to have a waiver filled out to get on site. And the sign says, if you've got court business, you're going to have to wait. The heralds lost your paperwork and court's runnin' late. So I got me a quill and some parchment, and I made out my own AOA And when next I saw their Majesties, I just turned and went on my way. Chorus Chorus


Sitting 'Round the Fire filk: The Dawn of the Day by Steelye Span As we sit round the fire in the twilight As we wait for the coming of true night We'll share a mug of ale A sweet song or valiant tale As we sit round the fire in the twilight As the stars float above in the dark sky We'll laugh and give cheer 'til the flames die For there's nothing I desire More than true friends round the fire A thing gold and fine gems never will buy As the moon rises over the tree line A cup of your mead would do me fine And a hundred songs we'll sing For the memories that they bring Like jewels brought to life from a dark mine Now the fire has died down to an ember And we feel the cold air of November So we'll part to find our bed Though we'd rather stay instead For this night we will all long remember. Now the darkness has upon us descended The long busy day, it has ended But we've good friends sitting round And the songs and tales abound Such a night leaves a broken heart mended. As we sit round the fire in the twilight As we wait for the coming of true night We'll share a mug of ale A sweet song or valiant tale As we sit round the fire in the twilight.


Stranger in the Camp by Lord Giles O'Culzean filk: Strangers in the Night Stranger in the camp, so uninvited Stranger in the camp, drunk and benighted Stranger in the camp, unintroduced to you Stranger in the camp, so unexpected Stranger in the camp, lost and dejected Stranger in the camp, passed out in bed with you Stranger in the camp: is he expired? Stranger in the camp: he claims that he's squired! Now around his eyes, bands of tight skin glisten Asks if you can help him find his red belt which has come up missin' Stranger in the camp, he's been exiled Stranger in the camp, no one defiled Drunken victim or a tramp� Who was that stranger in the camp?


Supercalafragalistic (filk) Pillage, rape and loot and burn but all in moderation If you do the things we say then you'll soon rule the nation Kill all of your enemies then kill all their relations Pillage, rape and loot and burn but all in moderation!


Thank God I'm a Nobleman Filk: Thank God I'm A Country Boy Chorus I fight for my lord On the hill or the level, Like my lady to be a bit of a devil All I need is a song at a revel Thank God I'm a nobleman! I go out to fight for my King and Queen When the battle comes around I can't be seen. Rather keep my brand new armor clean. Thank God I'm a nobleman! Chorus Well my Baron calls me up as a man-at-arms Says "Glory's on the field and not on the farm." Rather have the glories of my lady's charm. Thank God I'm a nobleman! Chorus Well a lot of folks think I'm a fighting fool But I think that the reveling is far more cool An wench is the lap beats a sword in the (-?-) Thank God I'm a nobleman! Chorus Well my friends all tell me that at this rate That a crosssbow wedding's gonna be my fate But I don't care, I can dodge just great Thank God I'm a nobleman! Chorus Well I know you all think from my song tonight That all I like to do is to wench and to fight Well all I can say is you're prob'ly right. Thank God I'm a nobleman! Chorus


Three Blind Laurels by Symon d'Auvergne filk: Three Blind Mice Three blind laurels Three blind laurels See how they judge See how they judge They all ran up to the Queen one night And altered her gown with a carving knife Have you ever seen such a sight in your life As three blind laurels? (repeat ad nauseum)


The Viking's Christmas Carol by Guy Bradley filk: T'was the Night Before Christmas Twas the night before Christmas and all through the hall Not a creature was stirring, not warrior nor thrall. The Vikings lay scattered about on the floor With visions of pillaging, looting, and more. And I in my curaiss, my greaves and my helm Was drunker than anyone else in the realm. I fell up the stairs and collapsed into bed While four quarts of mead were ablaze in my head. When down from below came the sounds of a brawl, So I grabbed up my axe and ran down to the hall. I missed the last step and crashed down in a heap, Thinking "Why can't those lowlifes downstairs go to sleep!" When what to my hungover eyes should appear But two brawny strangers with mallet and spear. I said to myself, "We'll soon have them beat" When I noticed ten warriors laid out at their feet. I let out a yell and leapt into the fray. I'll always regret the poor choice that I made. The one laid his hammer up the side of my nose, And up, up, up to the rafters I rose. Then came a lone, frightened voice from the floor, "Those are no mortal warriors, that's Odin and Thor!" They looked at each other. They said, "Battle's done." Now they know who we are, it is no longer fun. Thor raised his hammer, his elbow he bent And with a loud crash, through the ceiling they went. I crawled though the hall and flung open the door Not sure that I really had seen them before. With the snow bathed in starlight, the moon like a gleed I saw them ride off on an eight-legged steed. And I heard them exclaim as they rode out of sight, "To hell with Christmas, we just love a good fight!"


Welsh History 101 by Heather Rose Jones filk: The Ash Grove If ever you wander out by the Welsh border Come stop by and see me and all of my kin. I'm Morgan ap Dafydd ap Gwion ap Hywell Ap Ifor ap Madoc ap Rhodri ap Gwyn. We'll feast you on mutton and harp for your pleasure And give you a place to sleep out of the cold Or maybe we'll meet you out on the dark roadway And rob you of horses and weapons and gold. My neighbor from England has come across raiding Slain six of my kinsmen and burned down my hall. It cannot be borne, this offense, this injustice! I've only killed four of his, last I recall. I'll send for my neighbors, Llewellyn and Owain We'll cut him down as for the border he rides! But yesterday Owain stole three of my cattle So first I'll retake them and three more besides. We need a strong prince to direct our resistance Heroic, impartial, of noble degree. My brother's wife's fourth cousin's foster son Gruffydd Is best for the job, as I'm sure you'll agree. What matter that Rys is the old prince's nephew? He's sailed off to Ireland and will not return. I know this for every time boats he is building I send my spies money to see that they burn. Yes, we are just plain folk who mind our own business Honest and loyal and full of good cheer So if ever you wander out by the Welsh border Come stop by and see all the friendly folk here.


Woad of Harlech filk: Men of Harlech What's the use of wearing braces, Hats or spats or shoes with laces Vest and pants you buy in places Down on Broughampton Road? What the use of shirts of cotton Studs that always get forgotten These affairs are simply rotten, Better far is woad! Woad's the suff to show men, Woad to scare your foemen! Boil it to a brilliant blue And rub it on you legs and abdomen! Ancient Britons never hit on Anything as good as woad to fit on Necks or knees or where you sit on, Tailors, you'd be blowed! Romans came across the Channel All dressed up in tin and flannel Half a pint of woad per man-o Clothed us more than these! Saxons, you may save your stitches Building beds for bugs in britches. We have woad to clothe us which is Not a nest for fleas. Romans, keep your armors, Saxons, your pajamas! Hairy coats were made for goats Gorillas, yaks, retriever dogs and llamas! March on, Snowdon, with your woad on Never mind if you get rained or snowed on Never need a button sewed on, Good for us today!