Many times I have written additional verses for other people's filks,
usually by public invitation, and mostly in the Fidonet FILK Echo (otherwise known as rec.music.filk).
Surely you've heard I Have a Little Dreidl, even if you're not Jewish. Someone started one on other objects, reminding me of one I made up LONG long ago:
I have a little cookie
I made it out of clay,
And when it's dried and eaten,
Then "doctor" we will play!
Jeremy Buhler wrote a song called The Interdimensional Pub Crawl, with no set tune (though Oh, Susannah kind of works). He started it with:
Tonight, my friends, I shall relate(The spelling of "bheer" is traditional in filk circles. Don't ask.) I added:
A journey most bizarre;
I've come light years to sing for you
But never left my star.
I travel in another way,
A method some call queer;
My story I'll be glad to tell
If you'll just buy me a bheer...[CHORUS:]
Oh, I've traveled fifty thousand earths
And told a million tales,
But where'er I wander I know I'll find
An ear and a pint of ale.
I landed on a world with
Two suns up in the sky.
As I explored this new terrain
My throat became quite dry.
The natives were restless that night,
I stood watch without cheer.
But then I saw the cause of it,
They had most exc'llent bheer!I visited Antarctica
With fowl monochrome;
I nearly froze my buttocks off
Inside my fabric dome.
So I put my tuxedo on,
To look as natives do.
And then we partied all night long,
And bhoy those bhirds could bhrew!Mars was my next port o' call,
A planet of red sand,
Thinking I might find a gig
For my filking band.
I came upon a restaurant
With little atmosphere,
But I stayed there all night long
Drinking Martian bheer!I visited Australia
And met a kangaroo,
And the large cans in her pouch
Held the country's bestest bhrew!
And then I went to Africa,
Faced Zulus without fear,
For though they knew not English they
Knew much more about bheer!I traveled back to olden days
The ages now called dark,
And found myself accosted by
A stranger in the park.
This was no city park you see,
But the King's own game preserve.
And the tales of Robin Hood's men's ale
Are very well deserved!
In November 1994, Scott Snyder wrote about a song by The Voles, called Kurn, Kurn, Kurn, to the obvious tune (Turn, Turn, Turn, by The Byrds). He added:
For every planter, fern, fern, fernto which I responded:
There is a seedling, fern, fern, fern
And a houseplant for each apartment under heaven...
For every store, burn, burn, burn
There is insurance, burn, burn, burn
And a fraud to every arson under investigation....For every particle, CERN, CERN, CERN
There is an accelerator, CERN, CERN, CERN
And a beam for every ion under heaven....For every Bruce, Dern, Dern, Dern
There is a Laura, Dern, Dern, Dern
And silence for every running in the heavens....For every god, Herne, Herne, Herne
There is a pagan, Herne, Herne, Herne
And a priest for every priestess, 'cept Dianics....For every student, learn, learn, learn
There is a teacher, learn, learn, learn
And a book for every subject, not in budget....For every Odin, Nurn, Nurn, Nurn
There is a Wise One, Nurn, Nurn, Nurn
And a thorn for every Baldur, under Asgard....For Ann McCaffrey, Pern, Pern, Pern
There is a series, Pern, Pern, Pern
And a thread for every dragon, in the weyr....For every craving, yearn, yearn, yearn
There is an addict, yearn, yearn, yearn
And some dark in every chocolate, oh what heaven....
Then there's Mama Don't Allow. I have no idea who it's by, nor the tune, nor the original verses, but what the heck, that never stopped me before! So I suggested:
Mama don't allow no rap 'round here (repeat)
[done in rap style of course; with usual stupid noises accompanying]
Well we don' care what mama say;
We be chillin' anyway....
Mama don't allow no rap 'round here![MUST be started with instrumental accompaniment]
Mama don't allow no acapella 'round here (repeat)
[suddenly stop all instrumental accomp.]
[acapella in n-part harmony (the more the merrier)]
Well we don't care what mama don't allow
We gonna sing our heads off anyhow,
Mama don't allow no acapella 'round here!Mama don't allow no instrumentals 'round here (repeat)
[fill in with instrumentals of course....]
Mama don't allow no instrumentals 'round here!Mama don't allow no filkin' 'round here
[sit down and shut up][should be sung by a high-voiced male]
Papa don't allow no singin' 'round here (repeat)
Well I don't care 'bout tracts of land
I don't want the princess's hand,
Papa don't allow no singin' 'round here!Jahweh don't allow no evolution 'round here! (repeat)
Well I don't care what He don't allow
I'll be a monkey's uncle anyhow,
Jahweh don't allow no evolution 'round here!
You remember the 50's (40's?) classic, Mairsy Doats, don't you? Someone got the idea of adding onto that, so I wrote:
Fernsy Dair and Treesy Dair
And Little Birdsy Dwormies
A Kiddley Dwormies too, wouldn't you?
Someone brought up Old Time Computing, to which I added:
Let me write some moby hacks
On my trusty clustered VAX
Make the IRS pay my tax,
It's high enough for me!I could write some hacks in Pascal,
Like some .edu freshman rascal
Imitating Eddie Haskell
But C's good enough for me!New-fangled Object Orientation:
Some say it's a great creation
But there's so much conflagration
The old way's enough for me!
This, in turn, inspired someone to start Old Time Intelligence, to which I added:
It was good enough for Newton
When he sat 'neath trees a-fruitin'
William Tell should have been there shootin',
But he's smart enough for me!It was good enough for Nobel
When he tried to blow things to hell
Now his name's on a Peace Prize, oh well,
He's still smart enough for me!
And what filksing would be complete without Old Time Religion, the "culturally diverse" version? I have added, oh, about a dozen verses over the years, but dagnabit, the only one I can remember offhand is:
Some guys have a circumcision,
On account of their religion,
An embarassing incision,
That's cut enough from me!
Someone using the handle "Joey McKangaroo" started Uh-Oh, to the tune of the dwarves' song, Hi-Ho, from the Disney film Snow White. I don't know his real name, and didn't keep his original verses, but it was about borrowing his father's car, going over the edge of a cliff, and how angry his father would be....
Uh oh, uh oh, it's off the cliff we go,
A flattened tire will raise his ire,
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh!Uh oh, uh oh, it's off the cliff we go,
If I scratch the hood, he'll beat me good,
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh!
(You get the idea....)
If we hit bottom, he'll show me Sodom....
If we get a dent, my head'll be bent....
If we break a rod, better pray to God....
If the wheel well gets muddy he'll yell....
If we break a door, he'll hurt me more....
Some silly person started We're Out of Spaghetti, a parody of On Top of Spaghetti, which, as every child knows, is a filk to the tune of On Top of Old Smokey. I don't have his name or his lyrics, but I added:
We can't have dessert yet, the main course ain't done,
And sittin' around here is not very fun.We've still got some salad, and soup in the pot,
But pasta and meatballs is what we ain't got.Next time we tell Joe-Bob to come for a meal,
Perhaps we should find the best bulk-pasta deal!
In April 2000, someone (possibly Dan Goodman) started a filk of the classic hymn, Down By the Riverside, ending in "ain't gonna study peas no more". I added:
Gonna lay down my huntin' spear
Down by the riverside, (3x)
Gonna lay down my huntin' spear
Down by the riverside,
Ain't gonna study boar no more.Gonna lay down my debugger, ...
Ain't gonna study core no more.Gonna lay down my jamb and hinge, ...
Ain't gonna study door no more.Gonna stop addin' two and two, ...
Ain't gonna study four no more.Gonna lay down my dissectin' kit, ...
Ain't gonna study gore no more.Gonna lay down Jordan's old queen ...
Ain't gonna study Noor no more.Gonna lay down my NOT-OR gates, ...
Ain't gonna study NOR no more.Gonna lay down Cheyenne Mountain, ...
Ain't gonna study NORAD more.Gonna lay down my poverty, ...
Ain't gonna study poor no more.Gonna lay down my Robert's Rules, ...
Ain't gonna study quorums no more.Gonna lay down my lion head, ...
Ain't gonna study roar no more.Gonna lay down my stone-hard chair, ...
Ain't gonna study sore no more.Gonna lay down my foreign guide, ...
Ain't gonna study tour no more.Gonna lay down what I took from you, ...
Ain't gonna study yours no more.Gonna lay down my cash register, ...
Ain't gonna study store no more.Gonna lay down all the stuff I've borrowed, ...
Ain't gonna study shnorr no more.Gonna lay down my apnea, ...
Ain't gonna study snore no more.Gonna lay down my baseball stats, ...
Ain't gonna study score no more.Gonna lay down my carpeting, ...
Ain't gonna study floor no more.Gonna lay down my fungus seeds, ...
Ain't gonna study spore no more.Gonna lay down my prey's droppings, ...
Ain't gonna study spoor no more.Gonna lay down my Norse hammer, ...
Ain't gonna study Thor no more.Gonna lay down my household job ...
Ain't gonna study chore no more.Gonna lay down my leather suit, ...
Ain't gonna study grore no more.
In November 2001, Mark Kinney wrote "The Uses of a Mass Market CD", to no particular tune. Credits include "with help from Rich Brown, Larry Kirby, Dave Aronson, and FireCat"; we had all suggested uses, but he put it into song. I then added:
When you're lost in snowy woods and you can't find your way
A shiny bright CD can really save the day!
Use it like a signal mirror, sighting through the hole,
And hail the pilot of a passing airplane!If you're getting tired of looking at the road,
And feel like some distraction could really ease your load,
Just hang a CD from your rear-view mirror,
And blind yourself and get into a car wreck!If you're sitting bored at home and want a sight to see,
Open up the microwave, and put in a CD.
Nuke it on high, for just about three seconds,
But watch out for all the molten plastic!