Tag: songs: filk and filkers Page 1 of 2

Press Gang (Ya Got Trouble)
by Robert Wynne
Music: “Ya Got Trouble” by Meredith Wilson (from The Music Man)
© 2007

Well, either you’re closing your eyes
To a situation you do not wish to acknowledge
Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster indicated
By the presence of a film crew at your convention

Well, Ya got trouble, my friend, right here,
I say, trouble right here at your convention
Why sure I’m a filking fan
Certainly mighty proud I say
I’m always mighty proud to say it.
I consider that the hours I spend
With an axe in my hand are golden.
Help you cultivate rhythm sense
And a cool hand and a keen mind.
D’ya ever take and try to get
A round of applause for yourself
From a three verse parody?
But just as I say,
It takes judgment, brains, and maturity to play
In a chaos circle
I say that any boob kin take
And film a song with a camera
And I call that sloth.
The first big step on the road
To the depths of deg-ra-Day–
I say, first, newspaper men writing features
Then TV reporters!

An’ the next thing ya know,
Your fan is singin’ for money in a video
And list’nin to some big out-a-town jasper
Hearin’ him tell about Creation conventions
Not a wholesome fannish con, no!
But a con where they charge for the autographs!
Like to see some stuck-up filker’boy goin’ on Wife Swap?
Make your blood boil?
Well, I should say.

Now, friends, lemme tell you what I mean.
Ya got one, two, three, four, five, six guitarists in a circle
Guitarists that mark the diff’rence
Between a filkcon and distress
With a capital “D,”
And that rhymes with “P” and that stands for press!

And all weekend your convention fans’ll be frittern away,
I say your good fen’ll be frittern!
Frittern away their circle time, panel time, concerts too!
Get the song on the camera
Never mind gittin’ chairs in a circle
Or the flyers set out or the mics set up
Never mind pourin’ any water
‘Til your filkers are caught with the pitcher empty
On a Saturday night and that’s trouble,
Yes we got lots and lots a’ trouble.
I’m thinkin’ of the fans in the beanie-hats
Button-mail true fen, peekin’ in the filk room window at the mess
Ya Got trouble, folks, right here at your convention
Trouble with a capital “T”
And that rhymes with “P” and that stands for press!

Now, I know all you folks are the right kinda fans
I’m gonna be perfectly frank.
Would ya like to know what kinda conversation goes
On while they’re loafin’ around that camera?
They’re tryin’ out bumpers, tryin’ out slow fades
Tryin’ out SFX like video fiends!
And braggin’ all about
How they’re gonna cover up a tell-tale flub with a punch-in!

One fine night, they leave the filk room
Headin’ for the party on the third floor
Anime fen and Star Trek watchers!
And electronic, shameless music
That’ll grab your fan, your filker
With the arms of a TV media instinct!
Mass-staria!

Friends, the filmer’s lens is the devil’s playground!

Trouble, (oh we got trouble),
Right here at your convention
(Right here at our convention!)
With a capital “T” that rhymes with “P”
And that stands for press,
(That stands for press.)
You’e surely got trouble
(We’ve surely got trouble!)
Right here at your convention!
(Right here!)
Gotta figger out a way
To keep the filkroom pure and a success
(Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble…)

Fans of this convention!
Heed that warning before it’s too late!
Watch for the tell-tale sign of press infiltration
The moment that fan enters the room
Does he rearrange the buttons pinned below his badge?
Is there a pencil impression on his index finger?
A video camera hidden in his backpack?
Is he starting to memorize jokes from hallway conversations?
Are certain words creeping into his vocabulary?
Words like…like ‘quote?”
Ah-ha! And ‘can we get some better lighting?”

Well, if so my friends,
Ya got trouble,
(Oh, we got trouble!)
Right here in at your convention
(Right here at our convention!)
With a capital “T”
And that rhymes with “P”
And that stands for press.
(That stands for press!)
We’ve surely got trouble!
(We’ve surely got trouble!)
Right here at your convention!
(Right here!)
Remember Gafilk, FKO, and all the rest!

Oh, we’ve got trouble.
We’re in terrible, terrible trouble.
Those guys with the cameras takin’ notes are the devil’s guests!
(Devil’s guests!)
Oh yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble!
(Oh yes we got trouble, yes we got big big trouble!)
With a “T”! Gotta rhyme it with “P”!
And that stands for press!!!
(That stands for press!!!)

Aural Vixation
by Robert Wynne
Music: “The Girl Who’s Never Been” by Michelle Dockrey
© 2006

This last weekend I had gone to an SF music con
And I sat down at the concert Friday night
Songs of battle filled the room, torch songs followed none too soon
And the classic songs were all a big delight
Having heard all of the rest, the last set would decide the best —
On the stage there stepped a girl with hair of red.
And she sang to us this song; although it wasn’t very long
Since that moment it’s been trapped and it won’t get out of my head!

Save me! Save me!
It’s trapped in my head, you see!
Oh no, I think it’s starting up again!
Save me! Save me!
It won’t leave my memory!
I swear, this is the song that never ends!

Many other songs were played, I’m not quite sure why this one stayed;
Four days later and it’s still on endless play.
Other earworms can’t prevail, even “It’s A Small World” failed,
But it’s stuck in here and it won’t go away
So I went to see the girl who let it loose upon the world
She said “My lord, aren’t you guys sick of it by now?”
I suppose it could be worse, at least this is a pleasant curse
But I would send it out of my head if you’d only tell me how!

Save me! Save me!
It’s trapped in my head, you see
Oh no, I think it’s starting up again
Save me! Save me!
It won’t leave my memory
I swear, this is the song that never ends

Just another west coast filker singing her songs late at night
Sitting with her pers’nal guitarist and notebook held too tight
Just a singer in the circle with a smile bright as the sun
But I don’t know how she does the things she’s done

“Oh, take pity on me please! I’ll even get down on my knees!”
I begged her to relieve my aching brain
She said “Well, now since it’s you, I guess I’ll see what I can do”
And with a wink began to sing again
Well, I sat and listened well as she began to tell the tale
Of the man who makes a family of his crew
And it wasn’t very long until she finished up the song
And now where there’d been just one song, there suddenly were two!

Take love! Take land!
Take the place where I can stand!
But you can’t take the sky away from me!
Take out! To black!
Tell them that I won’t be back
I swear, you cannot take the sky from me!

And she faded, leaving just this parody

Where’s The Filkcircle
by Robert Wynne
Music: “Where’s the Orchestra” by Billy Joel
© 2006

Where’s the filkcircle?
Wasn’t this supposed to be an SF con?
Here I am, wandering the halls
How the hell could I have missed rousing guitars?

I liked the masquerade
Even though I had absolutely no idea at all
What was being said in all the panel talks
There’s the big name fan
The leading pro who never left the audience

Where’s the filkcircle?
After all, this is my big weekend from home
My trip to faerie, or the stars to roam
I assumed that a con would have a song
So I was wrong
So I’ll just sit right here
And play my guitar softly in the atrium
Then slowly one or two
Stop to hear a song
Then sit and sing along

And after the con is done
And after the last dog falls
The last note calls
From an open chord
At the filkcircle