Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Ose Is Dark

          Ose Is Dark
               (to the (minor-key!) tune of “Space Is Dark”)

Ose is dark, and ose is deep
So in vain we struggled not to sleep
Though we filkers are insane
We all dosed off just the same
And our drooping eyelids testify
To the yawns that we stifled to a sigh…

When we came in to filk that night, we were a fannish crew.
We had our songs and instruments, and of course a keg of brew.
We got our books and guitars out, and sat down in a ring
And tortured half a hundred tunes to see if we could sing.
But over our festivities a shadow fell and spread;
Our voices quavered half a tone, our strings were flat and dead
Then from our song leader, this mournful wail arose;
“Why is it, every single song we’ve sung tonight is ose?”


A song is ose primarily when it has a certain tone;
A kind of whine, a mournful dirge, a dreary keening drone;
Its lyrics may be sprightly and as witty as can be
But it’s bound to sound depressing when it’s in a minor key.
When we pulled into Argo Port in need of R&R
Our crew set out investigating every joint and bar
We had high expectations of their hospitality
But we found too late that it wasn’t geared for spacers such as we.


We struggled hard to lighten up, but the ose was far too strong
It drowned out all our instruments, so we had to sing along
It drained our beer, it scraped our tapes, it busted every string
And it gave us broken ballads full of misery to sing.
Now every single filker here is nodding off to sleep
We try to stay awake but we’re entangled far too deep
We can’t repel the spell of one of filking’s fiercest foes
So one by one we all succumb to the power of the Ose!


We see our buddies yawn, then nod, then fall down to the floor
Our casualties are piling high, as if this were a war
We lay each fallen comrade out to snore upon a chair
Then we bravely go on singing, though we haven’t got a prayer.
Against the mighty Ose we fading few cannot compete;
The Ose is now triumphant; we are doomed to grim defeat.
Our final conscious action is to turn of all the light
Then we tumble into slumber as we bid ourselves good-night.


No comments:

Post a Comment