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                              THREE
----------------------------------------------------------------
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)

CHORUS:
   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.

(Chorus)

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.

(Chorus)

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.

(Chorus)
  
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"

          (CHORUS 1)
I/O, I/O,
It's on the bus we go,
Save our place - in address space, I/O, I/O.

          (INTRO:)
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,
  we/write/to/your/disk/drive
O-Oh-no!, O-oh-no!
Eight years' data - over - flow!

(REPEAT CHORUS 1)

          (CHORUS 2:)
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.

--Beth Friedman

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!      

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 

*****

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

CHORUS:

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

CHORUS

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---
