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[personal profile] kjn
Last update, I mentioned that I hadn't been writing many new filks. Since then, I've written three new ones, though two of them were spur-of-the-moment filks.

First one was mostly written as a lark, when a fellow fan in the Facebook group "F Is For Filker" complained about his gloves being stolen to the tune of "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" by The Beatles, leading to a flurry of gloves-themed Beatles filk. This was my contribution, to the tune of "All You Need Is Love".


Gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves.
There's nothing you can wear that can't be worn.
Nothing you can hold that can't be held.
Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to fight the cold.
It's easy.

Nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be warm in time.
It's easy.

All you need is gloves, all you need is gloves,
All you need is gloves, gloves, gloves is all you need.
Gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves.
All you need is gloves, all you need is gloves,
All you need is gloves, gloves. Gloves is all you need.

There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.

All you need is gloves, all you need is gloves,
All you need is gloves, gloves. Gloves is all you need.
All you need is gloves. (All together now).
All you need is gloves. (Everybody).
All you need is gloves, gloves. Gloves is all you need.
Gloves is all you need.
Gloves is all you need.

The second one was written after a fellow Swedish fan retold her encounter with a large spider in her bedroom, and the phrase "the spider's in the jar" had lodged itself in my brain. To the tune of "Whiskey in the Jar".


As I was lyin' sleeping in me bed the other morning
At half past six the cat woke me and demanding proper cuddling
I first pushed her off me bed and I then pushed her into it
But the cat thought different demanding that me sleep I quit

Mush-a ring dum-a do dum-a da
Whack for my daddy-o
Whack for my daddy-o
The spider's in the jar

The cat it got some water and some cuddling out of me bed
Now I had done my duty and so the morning light I fled
I went back to my chamber, all for to take a slumber
I looked up neatly tucked in and the spider had me number

Mush-a ring dum-a do dum-a da
Whack for my daddy-o
Whack for my daddy-o
The spider's in the jar

I couldn't let it get away, the last one took a flame thrower
It hid under the wallstrip 'cause I was a little slower
I summoned up my courage and caught the spider in a jar
Was too afraid to kill it so let it out from very far

Mush-a ring dum-a do dum-a da
Whack for my daddy-o
Whack for my daddy-o
The spider's in the jar

(Yes, she had improvised a flame thrower to kill a spider at an earlier date.)

The last one was a long time coming. I've followed PC Hodgell's ([livejournal.com profile] tagmeth) Kencyrath series for a while now. A while ago, I noted the similarities between the opening legend about Gerridon and Jamethiel and the Swedish Hårga legend, where the devil starts to play and makes all the youth of Hårga dance until they die. One of the most famous Swedish hambo tunes is associated with Hårga and the legend, but it took me a while to finish the lyrics. I'm thinking of maybe writing another set of verses as well, but the current lyrics covers the opening legend nicely.

The traditional tune of Hårgalåten (sometimes also spelled Horgalåten) has several sets of lyrics associated with it, but the most famous one was written by Lennart Hellsing. There are lots of Youtubes of this one, e.g.: Elina (including a basic English translation in the description); Åsa Jinder (instrumental jazz); Kebnekajse (progressive rock).


Gerridon a man of pride was he
Three people in his hand he held by birth and might
Wealth and power and he had knowledge
That was deeper than the Sea of Stars

So Jamethiel dances faithful
Weaves the souls of the people in
Darkness enters, ancient hateful
Reaping the souls of the three kin

Rise up, said Arrin-ken to Glendar
Your brother has forfeited all and all is lost
Abandon all the things you value
Flee man, flee, and we will follow you.
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