It's nine o'clock on a Friday night
The filk is about to begin
There's a guy in a kilt sitting next to me
With a beer and an old mandolin

He said "Dude, can you give me an 'A'--or a 'G'--
"I'm not quite sure which it should be
"But it's one of them two,
"Or perhaps I'm confused
"Tune it up, please--I've got to go pee."

"Sing us a song, you're still sitting there
"Your guitar is still kind of in tune
"But since none of us quite knows the melody
"We could just as well bay at the moon."

Now, Jan's at the bar, filling up my stein
My drinks here are rare, but they're free
For a while things were ticklish
But she's quick with the licorice
Now all's well, but she still said to me

"Hey, MoFilker--I need a GoH next year
"Things are tight and we're just about broke
"So I heard you were cheap--
"Hell, you drive an old heap
"Won't you please be our GoH - hey, no joke"

Every one that I meet has a song to write
They have lyrics--some scan, and some rhyme (but not both)
Not a one has a hint of a melody
So they're anxious to steal one of mine

They say "Hey, could you write me a melody
"That'll go with the words that I wrote?
"In can be in 4/4,
"Maybe less, maybe more
"Just please, don't use too many notes"

"Sing us a song, you're still sitting there
"Though your squeeze box makes us hesitate
"If you played like Weird Al it'd be marvelous
"But it's more like a trip through Hell's Gate"

It's a pretty good crowd for a funeral
The accordion's been out all night
The con chair's not thrilled by the paucity
So I try putting things in a new light

I say "Don't think of it as a disaster
"Or an accident lying in wait
"Now you know who are hard-core
"Filk loyalists, and what's more
"Any guest you get next year will sound great"

"Sing us a song, you're still sitting there
"Your guitar still has all of its strings
"We can't tell if they are still tuned or not
"But it don't matter, the way that we sing"