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Category: Songs Page 5 of 12

Max Level Newbie

Max Level Newbie
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “I Am The Very Model of A Modern Major General” by Gilbert and Sullivan

I am the very model of a Warcraft Newbie 70
I’ve never been on raids, but I insist that I would like to be
I know the kings of Azeroth, but what they drop’s a mystery
From Netherstorm to Shadowmoon, no one has ever heard of me
I’m very uninformed about the way to play my character
And if your toon is female, I will prob’ly grin and hit on her
On every pull at the worst time, I will hit tab and free the sheep
And halfway through the boss fight, i’ll be in a corner fast asleep

I AFK in battlegrounds, thats how I got my purple gear
The stats don’t match my build, but I still like the way that I appear
In short, you see I have no clue and everyone I know agrees
I am the very model of a Warcraft Newbie 70

I’ve been to Ironforge, and yet I do not know the tram exists
I pester folks on general to take me out to Tanaris
Although I’ve never played your class, if we team up it won’t be long
Before I tell you all the things I think that you are doing wrong
Invite me to your group and i’ll insist that you should summon me
Then when you do I’ll ask for food and other things that I might need
Before the pull has been discussed I rush right in to start the fray
But when the fight gets out of hand I am the first to run away

I ninja loot by rolling need on every drop that’s green or blue
And if you haven’t kicked me yet, I’ll do it on the epics too
And so, you see why everyone in Shattrath City laughs at me
I am the very model of a Warcraft Newbie 70

My warriors try tanking with no shield and a two handed sword
My priests will heal you only right up to the point that they get bored
My rouges pickpocket every mob and cause the pull to go awry
My shamans never use their totems even when you ask them why
My warlocks never look to see what’s nearby when they cast a fear
My druids always go to dungeons wearing the same set of gear
My paladins cast random seals and never bring a judgment down
My hunters pets chase random mobs and during fights just run around

I run from PVP but I will gank you when your back is turned
Although I post in forums, I don’t read them so Ive never learned
That while I claim that I’m the greatest player you will ever see
I am the very model of a Warcraft Newbie 70

Several months ago, I finally gave in to the lure of the worlds most popular online RPG and started playing World of Warcraft. (You can find me on The Venture Co server as Pryderi.) For months, I worked my way up to level 70, meeting lots of cool people along the way, and finally, about three weeks ago, I finally reached that exalted summit. One of the interesting things about WoW is that, unlike a lot of games where you hit the level cap and wonder “OK, now what?”, there is a whole complex set of challenges designed especially for the top level characters. So rather than being the end of the journey, max level is a new beginning.

Of course, it’s possible for people to get all the way to max level without ever really learning to play your character effectively, which becomes painfully obvious to the people you end up in groups with during endgame content. I try very hard not to be one of those players, but I got the idea to write a song about the types of players everyone dreads teaming up with. This may not make sense if you don’t play the game, but hopefully the meta-joke at least works outside of context.

I apologize in advance for inflicting yet another parody of this tune on the world, but it fit too perfectly.

Ring of Sedation

Ring of Sedation
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “I Wanna Be Sedated” by the Ramones

Twenty-twenty-twenty-four hours to fall
Into a ring of fire
I’m going down, can’t do nothing at all
As the flames go higher

And it’s burning, burning, burning
Love is a firey ring
I have a wild desire
it makes a burning ring
I fell for you like a child
Now I can’t do anything
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!

Ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
Into a ring of fire
Ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
Into a ring of fire
Over on rec.music.filk, David Okamura writes about a website he found with “tinklepop” karoke tracks of popular songs.

> You got off easy, Karen.  I foolishly sampled most of those tunes, so
> tinklepop "Ring of Fire" alternated with "I Want to be Sedated" in the
> back of my mind for the rest of the day.

And this came out…
My mind is a curious place. 🙂

The Dumb Ones Don’t Live Long

The Dumb Ones Don’t Live Long
by Robert Wynne
Music: “Only The Good Die Young” by Billy Joel
© 2007

Well, hey there, Blondie, don’t make me search
You think you can run faster than I can lurch
Or that you’ll be safe if you hide in a church
I hate to tell you that you’re wrong

Well, they showed you a house and they said stay away
But you couldn’t wait past the end of the day
Now your brains are the center dish on my buffet
You will not outlive this song
You know the dumb ones, they don’t live long

You might have heard I died and was buried and gone
But I’ve come back and I’m here until dawn
When you see my hand coming up through the lawn
It might be best if you ran along

So come on, now Blondie, leave me a trail
Your attempts to escape are predestined to fail
Sooner or later, I’m bound to prevail
And your flesh will make me strong
You know the dumb ones, they don’t live long

You had a nice white dress that you shed for no apparent reason
Then you came down the stairs
Mmmmm, In your underwear
Oh, but Blondie you’re a morsel who has just come into season
Your night will just get worse
Once I stop to eat your boyfriend first
Whoa-oh-oh

You might think that the dead would just stay in the ground
But I’ve never been one for just lying around
And you can’t hide long before you are found
You shouldn’t go where you don’t belong
You know the dumb ones, they don’t live long

Oh, your mama said fast living only leaves you in a poor condition
This isn’t what she meant
But now you’re cornered and your luck is spent
Whoa-oh-oh

Come out come out come out, Blondie don’t make me search
You think you run much faster than I can lurch
Or that you are safe if you hide in a church
I hate to tell you that you’re wrong
You know the dumb ones, they don’t live long

Outbreak

Outbreak
by Robert Wynne and Larissa March
Music: “The Overall Distance” by Ben Wakeman
© 2007

Thirty miles from Memphis
There’s a wreck on the Interstate
Some folks crash and die,
While the rest reanimate.
They start to shamble towards my car
I think my time is running out
At first I feared they’d want to eat my brain
But now I don’t have any doubt.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a dead woman next to me,
Right outside my Oldsmobile.
Half her body’s gone,
She’s too horrific to be real.
So young to be undead,
But she’s clawing at the door,
I think I could take her out myself,
But here come half a dozen more.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a corpse standing by the on ramp
Gnawing on a dying man
His coat is stained with blood
He’s got a brain clutched in his hand
I could chop him into bits
And at first I think I will,
But his friends are closing in on me
And there’s more of them than I can kill.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a terror I start to feel
I turn and run through open fields
I know the zombies are hot on my trail
And i won’t have a future if I fumble and fail
I’m a man on the run and I don’t know how long my life will last
I must escape the undead
I must escape the undead — run fast!
Run fast!

Press Gang (Ya Got Trouble)

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

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

Naked Ambition

Naked Ambition
by Robert Wynne
Music: “Close to You” by Burth Bacharach and Hal David
© 2006

Why do I, every time I dream,
Picture you….and whipped cream?
It’s just like me to want to see
Clothes off you….

I forget what I meant to say
When you wear lingerie;
That is why I long to spy
Clothes off you…

On the day that you were born
You came out wearing nothing
That’s the reason that it’s called a birthday suit…
Please understand, from where I stand
That birthday suit you’re wearing is a beaut!

I admit…I’m not a subtle guy.
It’s not hard to see why
I approve each time you remove
Clothes from you

Small Town Dungeon

Small Town Dungeon
by Robert Wynne
Music: “Dollar Fifty Movies” by Ookla the Mok
© 2006

What can you do when you’re all broke and you’re out of work
How can you score some easy gold
The stairs led down, I lit a torch and I went in
Into the darkness and the cold

I’m going to the dungeon
That little small-town dungeon
A small-town dungeon won’t hold a lot
I’m going to the dungeon
That little small-town dungeon
A +1 dagger’s all that I’ve got
But a +1 dagger, that ain’t a lot
To fight your prey

I can cast a single spell
Then my use is shot to hell
I searched my tomes and learned them well
I packed my candle, book and bell

I’m going to the dungeon
The little small-town dungeon
A small town dungeon won’t hold a lot
Finding lots of treasure is always such a pleasure
When a +1 dagger’s all that you’ve got
And you tried to sneak through but you got caught

You hope the guards are kobolds
‘Cause you aren’t feeling too bold
And a troll is more than you want to face
You wouldn’t mind a goblin if he’s hurt and kinda hobblin’
And the cleric knocks him out with a mace
Just bops him on the head with a mace

There’s power when you find a new wand that shoots fire
And the chest of gold that’ll bring you the comfot you desire
When the monsters are defeated and won’t give any grief
To a wizard, a cleric, two fighters and a thief

Home from the dungeon
The little small town dungeon
We brought back the loot they said was so grand
It was eighty pounds of silver, a magic bow and quiver
And a ring of elemental command
And this thing that looks like Vecna’s left hand
We’ve got it made!

Nothing to loot and nothing to slay
We’ll have to come back another day
When it fills back up with prey
We’ll come and collect our pay

We’re not going to that dungeon
That little small town dungeon
Cause that little dungeon don’t hold a lot
We’re not going to that dungeon cause a bigger one is more fun
And by this time my level’s gone up a lot
And when we stagger out, I’m left with one thought
We got away!

All For Me Swag

All For Me Swag
by Robert Wynne and Bill Sutton
Music: “All For Me Grog” (trad)
© 2006

Chorus:
It’s all for me swag, me jolly, jolly swag
All for me hoard and me treasure
Well, I spent all my g.p. on a brand new sword +3
So its down into the caverns I must wander

Where are me boots? Me seven leaguer boots?
All for me hoard and me treasure
Well, they gave me a long stride and they split me underside
So its down into the caverns I must wander

Chorus

Where is me helm? Me magic, mystic helm?
All for me hoard and me treasure
It protected me from pain till the flayers ate my brain
So its down into the caverns I must wander

Chorus

Where is me mage? Me wimpy little mage?
All for me hoard and me treasure
To beat the troll she planned to use a spell called ‘Burning Hands’
So its down into the caverns I must wander

Chorus

Oh, where is me thief? My sneaky halfing thief?
All for me hoard and me treasure
Well he snuck off in the night with the loot from our last fight
So its down into the caverns I must wander

Chorus

Oh, where is me dwarf? Me sturdy fighting dwarf
All for me hoard and me treasure
Well, he took a fireball hit, and it blew him all to…….heck
So its down into the caverns I must wander

Chorus

I’m stabbed in the head, and I’d rather stay in bed
To finish healing from our last adventure
But I spent up all me dough, raising everyone I know
So its down into the caverns I must wander

Ordinary Tree

Ordinary Tree
by Robert Wynne
Music: “Ordinary Day” by Great Big Sea
Inspired by: “Sycamore Tree” by Seanan McGuire
© 2006

Saw your name on the tree, your initials surround mine
I wonder who carved them there for me to find, oh-oh.
It’s a lie, but it’s also a fact
I love you, but I can’t come back
‘Cause I must fly…

And I say….Way-hey-hey, I’ve just got to fly away
And you’re not going to call me home
And the end of the day, I know I must fly on my own

I did all that I could to keep you from dying
And you’ll never know why I can’t keep from crying
But you fit in this small town world
And I can’t be a small town girl
No, I must fly…

Way-hey-hey, I’ve just got to fly away
And you’re not going to call me home
And the end of the day, I know I must fly on my own

We each paid our dues and we each played our parts
But there’s no second chances, there’s no second starts, oh no
And you’re not coming back through my door
But I know now who this song is for
And I must fly…

Way-hey-hey, I’ve just got to fly away
And you’re not going to call me home
And the end of the day, I know I must fly on my own

Saw your name on the tree, your initials surround mine….

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