archives & links below

My photo
A person who needs no introduction.
Showing posts with label filk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label filk. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Kip's Wonderful World of Color presents:

PAINT THE BIRDS

Paint the birds, tuppence a can
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a can
"Paint the birds," that's what she says
While wings make rainbows above in the sky

In Saint Paul's shadows, the colorless statues
Of famously suffering saints
Look on in wonder, their eyebrows ascending
To see how she peddles her paints.

Though the cans are tiny and cheap
Listen- Listen- She's making a heap!
"Paint the birds, tuppence a can
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a can!"

Sparrows and pigeons, despondent and jumpy
All grey as the smoke from the coal
Unloved and stepped on, depressing and dumpy,
Bright colors could perk up their soul.

"Buy a can, buy one for your kid.
Two full ounces, a brush in the lid.
Paint the birds, tuppence a can.
Long last! Dries fast! Tuppence a can!"
.

Thursday, May 12, 2022

"B" Attitudes

To everything, there is a purpose, and a time for every season under Heaven. There is a time to put your right foot in, and a time to take your right foot out. A time to Kung Fu, and a time to Wang Chung. There is a time to hit the bus, Gus, and a time to never let you go.

There's a time to eat the plums, and there is a time to refrigerate plums together. There is a time to hold them, and there is a time to lay them upon the table. There's a time for getting what you want, and there is a time for getting what you need. There's a time to roll over and a time to wake up Maggie. There is a time for jazz hands, and there is a time for happy feet. There is a time for little green apples, and a time to shake the peach tree.

There is a time to like short shorts, and there is a time for tequila. There's a time for knowing what time it is, and a time not to really care. There's a time for getting to Phoenix, and there's a time for working on the line. There is a time for a ball and chain, and a time for a ring of fire. There's a time to ride, captain, ride, and there's a time to not rock the boat. There is a time for dancing in the moonlight, and a time for leaving the cake out in the rain.

There is time for the journey of a covered wagon, and there is time for a three-hour tour. A three-hour tour. There is time for a jump to the left, and there is time for a step to the right. There is time for me to cry at my party, and there is a turn for Judy to cry. There is a time to tune in tomorrow, and a time to tune in next week. There's a time for placing things, and there is a place for timing them.

There is a time to talk to a horse, of course, and there is a time to sit on it. There is a time to buy a vowel, and there is a time to spin the wheel; a time to introduce yourself and a time to write your final answer in the form of a question. There is a time to watch your mail, and a time to look under your seat. There is a time to just do it, and there is a time to ask your doctor if it is right for you. There is a time to fuck around, and there is a time to find out. There is a time to save a stitch, and there is a time to spend nine. There's a bit of spinach between your teeth; there it goes.

There is a time and a place for everything, but there is no time for sergeants.

Thursday, April 30, 2020

The Zombie of Oz

ZOMBIE WARNING: Song about Zombies. If you don't like zombies, and zombie activities, don't read the song. Or sing it. You can hum it, if you don't think about the lyrics while you're doing it. So anyway, this should be sung by an undead Ray Bolger in 1939, and it includes the verse, which doesn't appear in that movie, except (I think) as an underscore to some of the dancing. I know we used it for that when I was in this on stage, anyway. Okay, you've been zombie warned. Now comes the zombie part:


Said a dead man, lurching to his feet:
"I'd be happy, if I had some meat!
Not just any meat, of course--
I wouldn't eat squirrel or lion or tiger or horse...
But I sure would like your brain!

Zombies hunger once they pop off,
And crave to pop your top off
For pudding you contain
I would do you in discreetly
And give thanks to you most sweetly
If I only had your brain!

I would smile while I'm a-munchin'
The warm cerebral luncheon
You fight against in vain.
I would happily get crackin'
And I'd save the rest for snackin'
If I only had your brain!

Oh, I
Could bake a pie
Or canapes galore
I could relish it on crackers by the score
It's just the taste
That I adore.

I'm so sorry this portrayal
Might strike you as betrayal
And bring you fear and pain
But I'd never have to miss you
While I scarfed your nervous tissue
If I only had your brain!

reprise:
I regret this will be bloody
Though I was once your buddy
But think of what we'll gain
'Cause the bright side is, you'll love us
And be one of us--one OF us
If I only have your brain!


.

Saturday, April 25, 2020

BORN TO BE LOUD

[ttto: Born To BeWild by Steppenwolf]

Get your blower running
Head up on the driveway
Lookin' for some dead leaves
Or whatever will fly 'way

Yeah, we're gonna make it happen
Kick the world in a lovin' place
Fire all of 'em up at once and
Explode in its face!

BORN TO BE LOUD
BORN TO BE LOUD

We like smoke and loud noise
Any kind of thunder
Only play with loud toys
When we're plowin' nature under

Yeah we're going to make it happen
Make this lawn like a graveyard lot
Feed every blade of grass and
Then poison what's not

BORN TO BE LOUD
(mmMMMMMMmmm)
BORN TO BE LOUD...

We love cool, deadly toys
We were born, born to make noise
Gonna feel so proud
We're the loudest of the loud

BORN TO BE LOUD
(Vroom vroom vroom )
BORN TO BE LOUD
(Vroom vroom vroom )
BORN TO BE LOUD
(Repeat without fading)...
.

Dedicated to the guy next door at 8:45 am.

Fifty Fifty (Keep it Fair)


Fifty Fifty

[ttto: Roving Gambler--traditional]

I am the rag of record, job's to keep it fair
Whenever I discern two sides
My stand's between them there
Stand's between them there, stand's between them there.

A liar got in office and he gaslit all around
I stood up straight beside him
And split the difference down
Split the difference down, split the difference down.

He poisoned air and water that the others had kept clean
And I declared right then and there
"The truth lies in between
Truth lies in between, truth lies in between."

He lied by noon and morning and lied some more at night
The others stood for truth and I said
"Each side is half right
Each side is half right, each side is half right."

He treated his position as a self-enriching game
And I pushed out my chest and said
"Both sides are to blame
Both sides are to blame, both sides are to blame."

He stole and robbed at random, hired hacks as bad as he
And I retailed his lies and said
"Some would disagree
Some would disagree, some would disagree."

And now he says drink bleach, folks, inject a Lysol spray
I wear my wisest face and write
"Dems in disarray
Dems in disarray, dems in disarray."

We're seeing widespread death now and ruin's in the air
And I stand proud and say it loud
"I always kept it fair
Always kept it fair, always kept it fair."


.

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

The song in DFT's heart

​Oh, beautiful for unmarked bills
For checks made out to me,
For money owed to trusting shills--
The dough they'll never see!

Emoluments, emoluments,
It's lovely to be me!
I'm living large on every charge
From fee to shining fee!

Emoluments from foreign lands
Large loans from many states
And aid that winds up in my hands
From foes my nation hates!

Emoluments, emoluments,
I get them all the time,
And make my job a chance to rob,
From crime to lovely crime!

Emoluments for golf course graft
I charge each time I go
I've double dipped and loudly laughed
More than you'll ever know!

Emoluments, emoluments,
By right they're mine for free
Grease crooked palms with unearned alms
That all come back to me!

Emoluments for golf cart rent
My Secret Service needs
To do their job in government
That feeds me as it bleeds.

Emoluments, emoluments,
Oh, may they never cease.
I'll be, I swear, a billionaire
From all the shills I fleece!

Emoluments from family biz
That skirts around the laws
Each grown-up child gets hers or his
Clutched firm in family paws!

Emoluments, emoluments,
That trickle through my kin
My heart goes thump at every chump:
My god, how it rolls in!

I met the ghost of Tammany
Who'd never wept before,
But tears fell fast, as "Sir," said he
"You've topped my grift, and more!

"Emoluments, emoluments,
I doff my hat to you!
You've grabbed the pelf, enriched yourself,
In ways we never knew!"
.

Saturday, March 10, 2018

The New Ozymandias

.
I met a farer from a far-off strand
Who said, “Two giant feet of bronze, gone green,
In water sit, bedecked with broken chains
That show their maker well did understand
That bonds of former slavery, still seen,
Convey defeated servitude’s remains.

Near by, a broken torch lies, dead and dark
In grimy water’s tide that, fitful, passes,
And on the base, these words my eyes did mark:
‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses
Yearning to breathe free—’ Here ends the poem,
The rest is swallowed in the rising water.
Along the shore, starved, feral humans roam
Whose brandished weapons offer only slaughter.”



KW 20180310
.

Friday, January 27, 2017

a swinging holiday

There's a blackboard in one of my classrooms—actually both, since I take both classes in the same room on different days—with some writing on it about snowmen and whatnot. Down near the bottom, in mixed-case cursive, it says "Jungle Bells," like someone was doing the "i" and made two peaks instead of one. In a situation like that, I could (1) just ignore it, (2), fix it, or (3) do something else. I chose (3). Today, as the rest of the class was filing in, I was scribbling away:

JUNGLE BELLS

Swinging through the trees
With a holly jolly ape.
Music's on the breeze.
Native children gape!
Lights on green fronds cling
And shimmer in the heat.
Let's dance and sing till tree frogs ring
With a yuletide jungle beat! Oh—

Jungle Bells, Jungle Bells,
Through rain forests green!
Carols hum on a wooden drum
From hands that can't be seen, oh—
Jungle Bells, Jungle Bells,
Tinkle through the swamp:
Festive chimes that hang from vines
For a sultry Christmas romp!

So have a happy. The time is out of joint anyway.
.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

social media (song)

.
filtered through a radioactive Michael Jackson impersonator — title and tune at end

You still together? Did your cable come back?
How 'bout this weather? Whad ja have for a snack?
We're hangin' here on every single message now, Jack,
So tweet it! Just tweet it!

Is your car working? Is it cold in your flat?
Got coffee perking or a .gif of a cat?
You need to tell the motherlovin' world about that!
So tweet it! Put your words on that screen.

Just tweet it, tweet it, tweet it, tweet it,
Pray that it'll be repeated
They don't all need  

To end with a snort
Don't need it deep, long as it's short
Just tweet it, tweet it
Just tweet it, tweet it
Just tweet it, tweet it
Just tweet it, tweet it

Seven score letters, try to leave some slack
You want your name to fit there if they tweet it back
Use 'em all up and you'll look like a hack
But tweet it, just tweet it

Your life is boring, it's a stinkin' crime
Nowhere to go today, no mountains to climb
So let your life run out, a gross of letters at a time, and
Tweet it! Did they favorite this one?

Just tweet it! Tweet it!
(repeat until bored)









[title: Tweet It. ttto: Beat It — (I hoped it was obvious)]
lyrics above ©2013 by Kip Williams
.

Thursday, November 01, 2012

minas morgul

.
Minas Morgul was Minas Ithil
Now it's Minas Morgul, not Minas Ithil.
Now the shadows grow in old Minas Ithil
On a moonless night, by runic light.

The Uruk-Hai in old Minas Ithil
Lurk in Minas Morgul, not Minas Ithil*
So if you've a doom in fair Minas Ithil,
It awaits thee in fell Morgul.

Even old Mirkwood was once the Greenwood great.
Why'd they change? I dare not say --
(Evil One liked it better that way!) So--

Take me back to old Minas Ithil.
No, you can't go back to old Minas Ithil
For the road leads not to cold Minas Ithil.

Why did poor Minas Ithil pop its corks?
That's nobody's business but the Orcs!

[ttto: Istanbul (not Constantinople). New words (c)2004 by Kip Williams]


*This has been criticized, but it is a true statement. The ones that are there do that. I didn't say there were a lot of them. Q.E.D.

(I realized I don't have this up on my own page. I wrote it in 2000, right around or just after the time I was in "The Mikado" at CNU.)
.

Friday, October 05, 2012

Internet Writer

.

(to the tune of Paperback Writer, by Lennon & McCartney)

Pasty basement dwellers, won't you view my blog?
I had eighty hits last week, just see the log.
All my teachers told me, stick with what you know,
But I don't know joe, so I'm gonna be an internet writer,
Internet writer!

When I watch a movie or a TV show,
How's it make me feel? People need to know!
Got strong opinions, I hold nothing back,
I'm a little cracked, and I'm gonna be an internet writer,
Internet writer!

(Internet… writer… internet… writer) (repeat this part when you feel like it)

Got my thumb on the pulse of the intertubes,*
And an eye that catches any kind of boobs,
My friends all say that I'm a crazy stitch,
Some day I'll be rich, cuz I'm gonna be an internet writer,
Internet writer!

I can update often, I've got time to spend.
Please retweet my twitters, be my facebook friend!
Put my link up on your blogroll too,
I'll link back to you, man, I'm gonna be an internet writer,
Internet writer!

Gonna build my influence, and when I'm big
I'll be read at Reddit, I'll be dug at Digg,
Drudge and aintitcool will defer to me,
And they'll all agree, I'm the king of all teh internets writers,
Internet writer!!

(new lyrics ©2012 by Kip Williams)
(thanks to Nehemiah Scudder for the title and central conceit — he literally asked for this)




*A significant line. The thumb has its own pulse, which can be confused for the pulse it's supposed to be taking. Plus it fits the meter.
.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

The Car-Mangled Banner

.
Oh, say, did you see
On the truck that just passed?
Some poor star-spangled banner
Is waving its last.
With six stripes and nine stars
Threadbare on a stick,
Do they think it's respectful?
It seems kind of sick.
If they can't take good care of
The flag that they wave,
How can they care for the land
Of the free and the brave?
.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

My Object All Sublime


In 2000, I decided that the theatre program at Christopher Newport University was a class act, and determined that, over the hill as I was, I would use my position as a faculty spouse to justify trying out for shows. I auditioned (using "The Girl Friend of the Whirling Dervish" as my song) , and was offered a part in the Chorus, which I accepted, knowing full well it would be harder than any part I'd ever done. And it was, but it was so worth it. I got to work with director George Hillow, who not only brought out humorous scenes and situations I never suspected were in the original script, but who also created fantastic sets.

(In the photo, I'm the really pale one. My character was called "Honorable Third-From-Left".)

Early in rehearsals, George put out a call for new lyrics in two of the show's numbers, "I've Got A Little List," and "A More Humane Mikado." Though most of the show's lyrics have aged well, the social offenders on whom the characters were wishing death and humiliation have been replaced by much newer annoyances to revile. It turned out quite soon that he was happy enough with a set of lyrics for the little list that had been used in another production, and I turned my attention to the Mikado's number.

One or two verses I initially wrote were axed and replaced by better ones (also by me). In the course of rehearsal, bits of business were added in.

It was just wonderful, hearing my lyrics sung by a soloist with chorus and orchestra for a live audience that gave the impression they were enjoying it. (The highest compliment the show received, in my opinion, was a student sitting behind my wife, who remarked to his chum, "This is more fun than getting wrecked!")



Allow me to set the stage. The Mikado of Japan, feared by all for his jovial enjoyment of torture, comes to the town of Titipu, where he is greeted by all the other principals and the chorus. The laughter heard in the opening lines of his song comes because the factotums have brought a huge box out onto the stage, and the Mikado has just popped out of it like a mikado-in-a-box. (Jon, our Mikado, carried this off with hauteur and aplomb, despite being claustrophobic.)

By way of introduction, he sings the words of W.S. Gilbert (which I will put asterisks in front of, just in case anyone thinks I'm trying to pass off his lyrics as more of my work):

Mikado:
*A more humane Mikado never did in Japan exist!
*To nobody second, I'm certainly reckoned a true philanthopist.
*It is my very humane endeavor to make, to some extent,
*Each evil liver a running river of harmless merriment.

*My object all sublime, I shall achieve in time--
*To let the punishment fit the crime, the punishment fit the crime--
*And make each prisoner pent
*Unwillingly represent
*A source of innocent merriment, of innocent merriment!

The boring breadwinner who rings you at dinner
To change long-distance plans;
We'll let this annoyer try calling his lawyer
With string and two tin cans.

The dowager old, who makes so bold
As to 'lift' her form and face --
When she has healed, 'twill be revealed
Her nose they did misplace.

The chip-eating chap in his easy chair's lap
Who's wild for spectator sport
Will play them all from inside the ball
Being bounced around the court!

The lout who enjoys his musical noise
And shares it with you on the street;
We shall make a drum of his bum-bum-bum
And kick it on every beat...

*My object all sublime, I shall achieve in time
*To let the punishment fit the crime, the punishment fit the crime,
*And make each prisoner pent
*Unwillingly represent
*A source of innocent merriment, of innocent merriment.

Chorus:
*His object all sublime, he shall achieve in time (etc)

Mikado:
The caliginous creep with his cell-phone's beep
In crowded concert halls;
His number we'll lend to the Psychic Friends
And let them receive his calls!

The lawyers who...

At this point, a cell phone is heard. Jon stops singing. The orchestra stops playing. The chorus and everyone else on stage starts digging frantically through their costumes, looking for the phone. A Gentleman of Japan, who is somehow third from right at this point, triumphantly comes up with the chirping instrument, opens it up and says, "Moshi-moshi? ... hai... hai... " Sudden realization that the call is for the Big Guy himself, who regards me with royal impatience. I knee-walk over and hand him my phone. "Mikado," says Jon. "Sorry, I'm in the middle of a number. Yes... Yes, I love you too, Mumsy." He clicks off and puts the phone in his pocket. I grovel back to my place.

Mikado:
...The lawyers who race and ambulance chase
As a business strategem
Will see how they like to pedal a bike
While the ambulance chases them.

The mentalities small, who write on a wall
That "So and So is a Jerk" --
We'll see to it these'll be everyone's easel
Of calli-o-graphic work!

The playgoer loud, so exceedingly proud
To announce how the show comes out
Will be condemned to announce the end
Of himself; quite soon, no doubt.

*My object all sublime, I shall achieve in time (etc)

Chorus:
*His object all sublime, he shall achieve in time (etc)

(We moved from Virginia in 2005, but for as long as we were there, George was telling people that the biggest laugh ever was when I said "Moshi-moshi." I believe it was Jackie who provided me with this standard telephone greeting. Nowadays I think I should have turned out as the reaction was dying down and shushed the audience, but we only think of these things when it's twelve years too late. Edited to add an audio file, and I think I might be able to provide video of it in the near-ish future.)

15 Nov 2013: I was thinking about the show again today, wearily working out at the Y, and the remarkable talents we had. Fred, our Ko-Ko, has been working steadily on stages in New York City and around, since he graduated. Erik, our Pooh-Bah, has been a fixture on professional stages farther south. When Erik and Fred and Chad performed the trio, "I Am So Proud," the star power on that stage was downright scary. And Jon, who popped out of a box as The Mikado, did so with grace and confidence each night, notwithstanding his nigh-overpowering claustrophobia. The things we are able to do in front of an audience! (My back had gone out, and as I stepped away from the stage, I'd sag more and more until I had to crawl to a couch until my next entrance. I remember seeing Mike doze on the same couch, and when a stagehand gave us the customary alert, "Five minutes," he replied "Thank you five" without waking up.)

What I wanted to say was that I still admire Erik, not just for his virtuoso performance (without changing a word of dialog, he made the scene where he advises Ko-Ko as a variety of functionaries into a cadenza of celebrity impersonations) but for his curtain call. All through the show, he was stern and unbending. As he took his bow, he glared at the audience one last time, raised his fan to his face, and when the fan came down, he was smiling broadly. He had dropped the mask with a wonderful gesture I will steal if I ever get the chance, facing the audience for the last time as himself.

The closest I came to an inspired curtain call was for "Where's Charley?", a show in which I spent my time trying to woo a wealthy widow, never suspecting it was Charley. The real widow, played by Angela, was to my left as we came out. Every night, I gallantly offered her my arm, and every night, she didn't even see me, turning to the gentleman who had won her affection in the last act, at which I would turn away and pretend not to mind. Angela didn't even know I was doing it. Somebody told her, and she said it made her feel so sorry for me! Or rather, for Simon Sylvester Salsonberry Spettigue, I suppose.

Blog Archive