watervole: (Default)
 Here's my Pratchett filk - the tune is "Bread and Fishes"
 
As I walked through the corridors, sleepless at night,
I saw in the bar a familiar sight.
A man in a hat, I had thought he was dead,
A teller of stories who smiled as he said:
 
Oh, the turtle's still moving, she swims through the sky,
With her cargo of elephants riding so high,
The Discworld's still turning, the sun still goes round,
And all of my people are safe on the ground.
 
I sat down beside him, he showed me a chair,
We nibbled on peanuts someone had left there,
He told me of wizards and witches and kings,
And of the Patrician who knows everything.
 
Oh, the turtle's still moving, she swims through the sky,
With her cargo of elephants riding so high,
The Discworld's still turning, the sun still goes round,
And all of my people are safe on the ground.
 
I sat there and listened until daylight came,
I know that I never will see him again,
But stories keep living as long as they're read,
'Twas the teller of stories who smiled as he said:
 
Oh, the turtle's still moving, she swims through the sky,
With her cargo of elephants riding so high,
The Discworld's still turning, the sun still goes round,
And all of my people are safe on the ground.
watervole: (Default)
  I wrote a Dr Who filk at Redemption.  It's set at Amy and Rory's wedding.  I was quite pleased about that, as my filk muse had dried up for a long time.  Being at a good, relaxing convention seems to have kicked it awake again.

The tune is an old gospel song, which seemed to fit the theme of remembering.

I had a couple of requests for the words/tune, so here it is:





The words )Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue

 

By Judith Proctor

 

Tune: Do Lord, Oh Do Lord, Oh Do Remember Me

 

I’m marrying the man I love, Rory I love you,

I’m marrying the man I love, Rory I love you,

I’m marrying the man I love, Rory I love you,

Why do I feel so blue?

 

I dreamed I had a childhood friend, but childish dreams must always end,

I dreamed I had a childhood friend, but childish dreams come to an end,

I dreamed I had a childhood friend, but childish dreams come to an end,

Leaving me so blue.

 

Who’s that woman passing by? In the corner of my eye,

Who’s that woman passing by?  In the corner of my eye,

Who’s that woman passing by?  In the corner of my eye,

She left a book of blue.

 

Raggedy Man, Oh Raggedy Man, Why did I dream of you?

Raggedy Man, Oh Raggedy Man, Why did I dream of you?

Raggedy Man, Oh Raggedy Man, Why did I dream of you?

With a box of blue.

 

Something old and something new, something borrowed, something blue,

Something old and something new, something borrowed, something blue,

Something old and something new, something borrowed, something blue,

Where is my something blue?

 

Time Lord, Oh, Time Lord, I do remember you,

Time Lord, Oh, Time Lord, I do remember you,

Time Lord, Oh, Time Lord, I do remember you,

In your box so blue.


watervole: (Default)
I was chatting to Kathryn over the phone today and we remembered one of our favourite filks that  we wrote together.

Enjoy! 

The Curse of the Fatal Death

Written by Judith Proctor and Kathryn Andersen

Tune: English Country Garden

How many different ways are there to die,
In a science-fiction story?
I'll tell you now of some that I know,
For all the rest are rather gory.
Viruses are all the rage,
Here's a new bacteriophage --
In my laboratory.
I've a new disease that kills thousands with a sneeze,
In a science-fiction story.

How many different ways are there to die,
In a science-fiction space-ship?
Distortions are galore, as you vanish evermore
Through a giant time-and-space-rip
Decompression spoils your looks,
So do holes from grappling hooks,
Suffocation's nasty.
Leaks from coolant gas, when you fail to grab your mask
In a science-fiction space-ship.

How many different ways are there to die,
In a science-fiction space-fight?
Fleets of battleships will blow your world to bits,
As we demonstrate our alien might.
You're held fast by tractor beams,
Nobody can hear your screams;
Plasma bolts exploding.
Laser beams are nice, they can really cut and slice
In a science-fiction space fight.

How many different ways are there to die,
In a science-fiction duel?
You can be the hero, innocent and brave,
And I'll be cold and cruel.
We'll be fighting hand-to-hand
Oh tradition, ain't it grand!
I've got a new light-saber
When you fight with swords, then the audience applauds,
In a science-fiction duel.

How many different ways are there to die,
On a science-fiction planet?
You can lose your breath, as you get crushed to death,
'Neath a giant block of granite.
Eaten by carnivorous plants,
Flayed alive by fire-ants;
Eggs laid in your abdomen,
If they have their way, they'll rewrite your DNA,
On a science-fiction planet.

watervole: (Liberator)
A couple of weeks ago, someone on my friends list pointed me at a posting discussing Linda Short's filksongs.  People were looking recordings of her songs.

I can't now remember which journal I read the discussion in, but I have managed to find two CDs with Linda's songs on.

If someone can put me in touch with the person who was looking for the songs, then I'm sure we can sort something out.  I'd like the songs to be widely available.
watervole: (Tardis - anywhere but where you expected)
Via [livejournal.com profile] selenak , an enjoyable Doctor Who version of "I am the very model of a modern major-general" (I do do love Gilbert and Sullivan filks)



And the lyrics... )
watervole: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] dougs and I composed this at Picocon after observing the contents of the vending machines in the loos. They never had things like that when I was a student!

Do I need to warn you that it's cheerfully obscene?

http://community.livejournal.com/obscene_filkers/7560.html
watervole: (concertina)
This song is even more depressing now than when I originally wrote it.

It used to be a sarcastic song which referred to others seeking the convenient lie. Now, I rather wish someone would tell me a convincing lie...


Cassandra, as I hope you all know, always prophesied correctly and was never believed. (the enemy across the sea can be the Greeks or a post climate change hurricane - take your pick)

SWEET CASSANDRA

Chorus
Oh, lie to me,
Sweet Cassandra lie to me.
Prophesy no enemy will come across the sea,
Oh, lie to me.


Where are the lands of heroes, the stories of the brave?
Where is fair Atlantis, that sank beneath the waves?
Where are all the people who lived in days of yore?
Who will tell their stories if we are no more?


Tell me there's no poverty, say the world is free,
Tell me there's no fighting, no one's a refugee,
Tell me there's no hunger, no illness we can't cure.
Say the world is happy - and say no more.


Tell me that the Green Crusade is really rather strange,
Tell me that the climate is never going to change,
Tell me that the oceans will never rise again,
Say I can ignore things, give me no blame.

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