Bored again.

[jtthomas]

 And this time it's a snow day to boot. So that song I've been trying and failing to write for six months or so? Here it is, one hundred percent a true story. (That longer-running one still isn't done...)

Cats down the street were named Minnie and Mittens
And Ginger and Fluffy and Foxy were kittens
Grandma's house meant stillness -- ferals are strong --
So how did I never find filk for so long?

Mom taught me sign language; Dad taught me meter.
Now I play guitar and bodhran with beater.
Piano and fiddle and fife for a song --
So how did I never find filk for so long?

Learned some church music and bettered my pitch too.
Parodies, classical music, the itch grew
To write my own music and join with the throng --
So how did I never find filk for so long?

When I'm bored I
Write words toward a
Song of finding filk,
But there's no surprise
There's a gleam in my eyes:
I've long been part of this ilk!

G and S, Horrible, Lehrer and Yankovic,
Coded my own stuff and learned to type really quick.
Cats and performances, I'd ride along --
So how did I never find filk for so long?

Read some good fantasy, some was too gory.
Ninth grade I read Leslie Fish's cat stories.
Wrote some fanfiction but something went wrong --
So how did I never find filk for so long?

Learned basic Spanish and French and linguistics.
Embodied a filker's pure characteristics.
But it took a miracle to write this song --
I'd say that's how filk stayed a secret so long!

When I'm bored I
Write words toward a
Song of finding filk,
But there's no surprise
There's a gleam in my eyes:
I've long been part of this ilk!