Parody of “Janet's Ride”, words and music by
Heather Rose Jones
For
more information
and other parodies, see
www.songworm.com
Reprinted from
Songworm 1
Parody lyrics ©1987-11-06 by Bob Kanefsky. All rights reserved. The copyright of the original lyrics and music remain with the holder(s) of the original copyright.
Aye, she walks with astronauts, with paladins and rangers.
She presses boldly through the crowd, through costumes ever stranger.
The schedule and the program book show where the filk room’s waiting.
And aye, she means to seek it out, although the sound is grating.
A young and wide-eyed neofan whose con badge names her Janet
Was dragged, reluctant, to the con by friends who’d helped to plan it.
But leafing through the program book without their intervention,
She’d found a strange description which had captured her attention:
A curious blend of the lewd and the lofty,
The filk room is truly a marvelous place.
Where else can one hear a whole evening of song
On sorcery, swordplay, and space?
But please refrain from bringing things for slurping or for munching.
We would not want a filksong to be drowned out by your crunching.
And take care to curtail the time you’re absent from your seat,
Or you may find you’ve missed your turn while you were out to eat.
And aye, they sing of astronauts, of paladins and rangers.
She waits with patience for her turn, through songs grown ever stranger.
Her hunger and her ringing ears show how long she’s been waiting.
And aye, she finds herself enthralled, although the sound is grating.
Her friends come by to pick her up and take her out to dinner,
But find a hardened filker where they’d last seen a beginner.
Not now! They’re doing my request. It’s called `Old Time Religion.’
I swear I’ll hear it to the end before I seek provisions.
And aye, they dine with astronauts, with paladins and rangers,
While Janet stays behind to filk, through verses ever stranger.
Their empty plates and coffee cups show how long they’ve been waiting.
And aye, they brave the filk once more, although the sound is grating.
Hey come on, Jan, you’ve got to eat: the coffee shop is closing.
Why can’t you see the health risk that your filking habit’s posing?
I swear I’ll feast my ears alone, and baser needs deprive
’Til I’ve heard all the parodies of `Fuel to Feed the Drive’.
Her friends shake their heads and go off to their parties,
For, neo or not, she’s a woman full-grown.
And they’ve earned the right, from a long grueling day,
To seek out some thrills of their own!
And aye, they sleep with astronauts, with paladins and rangers,
Like crazy fen, they go to bed with people even stranger.
The moon shows Janet’s sleeping bag, still folded up and waiting.
And aye, she’s still down at the filk, although the sound is grating.
Her friends wake up next afternoon and find, to their concern,
That Janet still is waiting there for yet another turn.
But won’t you come have brunch with us at least a glass of water?
No, not until they’ve let me sing the full `Horse-Tamer’s Daughter’.
Please Janet, won’t you eat tonight, before it is too late?
We’ve even found a gorgeous hunk to be your dinner date.
I will not leave to eat or drink nor use the little girls’ room.
Not for a handsome prince’s love, nor orgy in the earl’s room.
And still she sits and waits her turn and will not budge a fraction.
She’s always one request away from reaching satisfaction.
To all intent of leaving she has given up pretending.
She’s started writing songs herself, to keep the filk from ending.
And aye, she writes of astronauts, of paladins and rangers.
With hunger gnawing at her mind, her songs grow ever stranger.
Her gray hair and her wrinkled skin show how long she’s been waiting.
And aye, we listen to her sing, although the sound is grating.