Misc Bujold Filk

These pages contain various filk songs relating to the work of Lois McMaster Bujold.

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Gotta Stop Those Plots In Time
by Diane Echelbarger to "Get Me To The Church On Time" from My Fair Lady
(Allegre with Aral, Illyan, Gregor, and the All ImpSec Chorus)

Aral and Illyan, to Allegre:
It's just a few more hours,
That's all the time you've got.
A few more hours,
Before they tie the knot.

Allegre [spoken]:
There's plots and schemes all over this town
And I've got to track 'em down in just a few more hours.
[to ImpSec Chorus] Let's go, fellows!

Gregor [at bachelor party]:
I'm getting married in the morning,
Ding dong the bells are gonna chime.
Pull out the stopper;
Let's have a whopper.
But get me to the church on time.

Allegre:
Vorbar Sultana is a big place.
It's spruced up and looking mighty fine.
Komarran plotters,
Ceta ghem rotters,
Gotta stop their plots in time.

If it's a riot, hose 'em down.
If they are booing, ship 'em outta town!

Imperial wedding in the morning,
Ding dong the bells are gonna chime.
Can't have a rumpus
Like us or lump us
We gotta stop the plots
(ImpSec Chorus: Gotta stop the plots!)
For God's sake gotta stop those plots in time.

Imperial wedding in the morning,
Ding dong the bells are gonna chime.
You, with the scanner
Check out that banner!
We gotta stop these plots on time!

Imperial wedding in the morning,
Ding dong the bells are gonna chime.
If I go barmy
Call out the army!
But help me stop the plots
(Chorus: Help him stop the plots)
Oh, for God's sake let me stop the plots in time!

Imperial wedding in the morning,
Ding dong the bells are gonna chime.
Scan ev'ry gift through,
Check all the mail, too!
We gotta stop these plots
(Chorus: Stop all of the plots)
Oh, God, please let me stop their plots in time!

[Repeat until dawn]

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Back on Old Barrayar
by Steve Salaba to the Beatles "Back in the U.S.S.R"

Flew into Vorbarr Sultana - point five cee
Didn't get to bed last night.
On the way a plastic flimsy's on my knee
Just one more report to write.

I'm back on old Barrayar
You don't know how lucky you are, Vor
Back on old Barrayar.

Been away so long I hardly knew the place
Strange without my Dad and Mom
Tomorrow I'll see Simon Illyan face to face
Till then disconnect the comm.

I'm back on old Barrayar
You don't know how lucky you are, Vor
Back on old Barrayar.

Though space-bred girls really knock me out
(They leave the rest behind)
Denarii girls make me sing and shout
That Barrayrar is always on my my my my my my my mind

Show me round your snow-peaked mountains way down south
Take me out to Silvy Vale
Let me hear your flute and fiddle ringing out
Let me taste your maple ale

I'm back on old Barrayar
You don't know how lucky you are, Vor
Back on old Barrayar.

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The next two are from Lee Gold they'll be in the upcoming FILKER UP #5 further details can be found at her web page at www.thestarport.com/xeno/xeno.html. There is information about FILKER UP and her bimonthly filkzine Xenofilkia.

Vorloupulous' Cooks
by Lee Gold, Copyright 1997 to the tune of "When Johnny Comes Marching Home"

Vorloupulous' cooks are on the march -- hurrah! hurrah!
They don't serve fat and they don't serve starch -- hurrah! hurrah!
They don't serve pickles; they don't serve sweets,
Just lots of slices of red rare meat.
No one goes unserved when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.

Vorloupulous' cooks have lots of knives -- hurrah! hurrah!
Long and short and narrow and wide -- hurrah! hurrah!
They cut through armor; they cut through bone.
They always make sure that they're well-honed.
No one goes unserved when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.

Now Emperor Dorca's big decree -- hurrah! hurrah!
Was "no more private livery" -- hurrah! hurrah!
So Vorloupulous sent his soldiers home,
But his cooks make sure he won't feel alone.
No one goes unserved when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.

Vorloupulous had two thousand cooks -- hurrah! hurrah!
Dorca announced, "That's one for the books!" -- hurrah! hurrah!
The Imperial Army came to call,
And Vorloupulous' cooks became meatballs.
No one goes unserved when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.

When there weren't any more cooks left to carve -- hurrah! hurrah!
The Emperor sentenced the Count to starve -- hurrah! hurrah!
But the Cetagandans dropped by next day,
So Vorloupulous' sentence was delayed.
No one goes unserved when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.

Vorloupulous rang the dinnerbell -- hurrah! hurrah!
The Cetagandans ate bloody hell -- hurrah! hurrah!
Vorloupulous died in the final fight,
Still with plenty of appetite.
No one goes unserved when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.

The Cetagandans were chopped and sliced -- hurrah! hurrah!
They all went home and they didn't think twice -- hurrah! hurrah!
But their ghem-lords still are wondering why
They were whipped by a man who was sentenced to die.
No one goes unserved when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.

Now the moral of this little song -- hurrah! hurrah!
Is short and sweet instead of long -- hurrah! hurrah!
Emperor Dorca's stern decree
Forbids cooking onions and livery.
Trouble's what get served when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.
No one goes unserved when Vorloupulous hosts a meal.

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No Need to Pretend
by Lee Gold, Copyright 1997 to the tune of "Wind from Rainbow's End"; Barry sings this in Em based mainly on The Vor Game by Lois McMaster Bujold

When I was a child, I didn't go to school: Em A D Em
Too many operations, too much chance of ridicule. C D C Em
Too short, too fragile -- and also much too bright. Em A D Em
Why bother with a peer group when I had no peers in sight? C D C Em

As I grew older, I daydreamed I'd succeed; Em A D Em
No one would whisper *"Mutant"* once they'd heard about my deeds. C D C Em
I'd out-think all my enemies and set them on the run; Em A D Em
My father and my mother would be proud I was their son. C D C Em

And I dreamed of stars -- and to earn Grandfather's name. G Em G D
I dreamed of glory -- and matching Father's fame; G Em A D
And hoped that the years would someday bring me friends, C D G Em
Once I became so grown up, there was no need to pretend. C D Am Em

I tried out for the Service; broken bones were all I got. Em A D Em
I tried to be a smuggler; the first trip, I got caught. C D C Em
But the people I'd brought with me looked to me as their lord. Em A D Em
I couldn't let them down; I seized the whole blockading horde. C D C Em

And Grandfather's dead; I'll never earn his name. G Em G D
But I dream of glory and matching Father's fame; G Em A D
And my duty is clear: protecting my new friends C D G Em
Until I am so grown up that there's no need to pretend. C D Am Em

I caught my former captors in a web of truth and lies; Em A D Em
Bewildered and inspired them -- and cut them down to size. C D C Em
The Dendarii trust me, but I know it's all a sham: Em A D Em
They don't know where I come from and they don't know who I am. C D C Em

I speak Betan twang, use Mother's maiden name. G Em G D
I lead troops in combat, and I'm slowly winning fame G Em A D
(And) I hope that the years will let me keep my friends, C D G Em
(But) will I ever be so grown-up that there's no need to pretend? C D Am Em

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I Am the Very Model of a Mercenary Admiral
Copyright 1997 Chuck Yokota. Permission is granted for non-commercial copying of this material, provided that the material is copied completely unaltered and the copyright and this notice are included.

I am the very model of a mercenary Admiral
I've information strategical, logistical, and tactical
I know the Counts of Barrayar, and I quote the fights historical
From Komarr out to Escobar, in order categorical

I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical
Gravity, electrical, and even astronomical
In five-space math I've mastered all the uses navigational
And jump the the worm-hole nexus for purposes professional

All: And jump the worm-hole nexus for purposes professional
And jump the worm-hole nexus for purposes professional
And jump the worm-hole nexus for purposes professional

I hypnotized the Oserans to consider me their leader
And turned them over to Gregor to prove I am no traitor
In short, in matters strategical, logistical, and tactical
I am the very model of a mercenary Admiral

All: In short, in matters strategical, logistical, and tactical
He is the very model of a mercenary Admiral

I know our mythic history, Varadar Tau's and Vorthalia's
And solve murder mysteries, whether Raina's or a Ba's
I quote in elegiacs all the cooks of Count Vorloupulous
And despite forward momentum I keep my honor scrupulous

I named my clone from among plotters subterrestrial
And heard the harmonies of frogs in palaces Celestial
I've lost my heart to ladies who've heard battle's din afore
And want battle armor more than Lady Vorkosigan's pinafore

All: And want battle armor more than Lady Vorkosigan's pinafore
And want battle armor more than Lady Vorkosigan's pinafore
And want battle armor more than Lady Vorkosigan's pinafore

I write my battle orders out in Barrayaran Cyrillic and
know the specs of battleships Betan and Illyrican
In short, in matters strategic, logistical, and tactical
I am the very model of a mercenary Admiral

All: In short, in matters strategic, logistical, and tactical
He is the very model of a mercenary Admiral

In fact, when I know the meaning of "subordination"
And spend a little bit more time in self-examination
When I survive Academy and duties meteorological
When I'm revived from cryofreeze with replacement parts thoraxical

And when I prove to Ky Tung my abilities professional
When I can be my father's son and be no more obsessional
In short, when I know myself as well as I know strategy
You'll say a better Admiral has never boosted at a gee

All: You'll say a better Admiral has never boosted at a gee
You'll say a better Admiral has never boosted at a gee
You'll say a better Admiral has never boosted at a gee

For my military knowledge, though I'm plucky and adventury
Has only come from Isolation for about a century
But still, in matters strategic, logistical, and tactical
I am the very model of a mercenary Admiral

All: But still, in matters strategic, logistical, and tactical
He is the very model of a mercenary Admiral

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The following are from Patricia Mathews

Cetagrinch

I am the Celestial Lady's servitor
An assassin, thief, and thug
My first job was sabotaging Winterfair
So they call me - Ba Humbug!

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Mark Pierre's Song
First printed in Samizdat Barrayar #9, Winter, 1993.
The tune is by Mother Goose.

I'm a little Vor Lord, short & stout
Here's my handle, here's my spout" (cynical Jacksonian gestures here)
When I get steamed up, just hear me shout
Tip me up and pour me out!

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Cordelia's Song
first printed in SAMIZDAT BARRAYAR #5, November 29, 1991.
The tune is Tom Lehrer's "Hunters Song"

I always will remember
T'was a year ago December
I went into town to shop
For a deal I couldn't top
I went out and bought the maximum
My husband could afford
The Vorpatrils, and my baby, and a nasty rebel lord.

I was in no mood to trifle
I took down my old blast rifle
And went out to hunt my prey
What a haul I made that day!
I stuffed him in a shoebag
And I brought him home quite dead
The Vorpatrils, and my baby, with the late Pretender's head

The Regency was firm, it
Took away my permit
THe mildest restriction I ever endured
It turned out there was a reason
Counts were out of season
And the Imperial Residence wasn't insured!

People ask me how I do it
And I say there's nothing to it
You just stand there looking cute
And when something moves - you shoot!
So there's a new stuffed head in our trophy room today
So Vordarian can oversee my little Miles at play.

Lucky I'm not of a vindictive nature!

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Brothers in Arms (Send in the Clones)
First printed in Samizdat Barrayar #9, Winter, 1993.
The tune is "Send in the Clowns" as performed by Joni Mitchell, written by Stephen Sondheim.

Isn't is rich?
Aren't we a pair?
Lord Vorkosigan on Earth and Miles in the air
Send in the clone .... where are the clones?

Isn't it fun?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around and one who can't move
Where is the clone? There ought to be clones!

When he got caught being two men
He made up a story; it came true - again!
Just when he thought that his troubles were through
Look at yourself - Miles Naismith, Mark II

Caught in a trap
Stuck on the shelf
Thanks to Mark II, Miles had kidnapped himself
Send in the clone
There must be a clone
Don't bother - he's here!

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Song for Kareen Koudelka as she goes off to college
First printed in Samizdat Barrayar #9, Winter, 1993.
The tune is "Teach Your Children Well", I think by Crosby Stills Nash and Young.

You who are on the road
Must have a toad
That you can live with
So feed him on your dreams
The ones you pick
The things you can give

Don't you ever ask him why
If he told you, you would cry
So just look at him and sigh
And know he loves you!

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Grizabella the Fan
The tune is "Midnight" from Cats based on T.S. Eliot

Remark the fan
Slouching into the ballroom
In her blue jeans and T-shirt
Ragged sneakers on her feet
You see she's overweight; her unstyled hair
Is streaked with grey
And you see her glasses aren't in style
Today or yesterday

She haunted many an SF con
From the opening door till the fans were gone
She flitted about the dealer's room
For books and toys that go 'vroom, vroom'
She's often doubted her mind and heart
Not to mention her taste for unicorn art

And who would think that one so plain
Could ever hurt because she's vain

Grizabella, the Star Trek fan
Grizabella, the Bujold fan
The one in the long blue velvet gown
With a golden veil and a golden crown

Who would ever suppose that slan
Was Grizabella the glamour fan!

Midnight
Not a sound from the ballroom
Has the fan lost her room key?
She is leaving alone
In the filk room the coffee cups
collect at her feet
And guitars
Begin to moan

Every panel seems to sound
A futuristic warning
The room lights sputter
And the chairman mutters
And soon it will be closing

Daylight
Don't be scared of the daylight
When you take up your mundane life
Lonely, bored, underpaid
Late in August another con -
Bubonicon comes
And the scene will be replayed

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And this one is from Diane Echelbarger

Winterfair
by Diane Echelbarger (tune stolen from Masquerade in Phantom of the Opera)

Winterfair!
All the best folk will be there...
Winterfair!
Uniforms fill the mirror'd hall around you.

Winterfair!
See the Vor lords throng the stair...
Winterfair!
Look around-- there's another Vor behind you.

Uniforms, blue and red, flash of sword, toss of head.
Swirl of skirts, see them prance in the old Mirror Dance!

Dancing...
Take a turn, make a glide as the music resounds at an inhuman pace.
Turn and step, dip and glide, keep your place, match his stride.
Skip and turn, continue, we are all on review.

Dancing...
Keep it up, hold the pace, almost there, one more turn, and a bow.

Winterfair!
Grinning fellows, spinning heads...
Winterfair!
Drink your fill for the wine it will astound you!

Winterfair!
Flirting with the maidens fair.
Winterfair!
Watch your tongue or they quickly will confound you.

Winterfair!
Father Frost is in the air...
Winterfair!
Come and play, for the night it will astound you!

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Eta Cetera
by Richard Boothe (while reading a working draft of Cetaganda) to "Home on the Range"
(First appeared in Samizdat Barrayar, Vol. 10, Nov. 1994)

Oh give me a place
Where the top Ceta race
Is preserved in a giant gene bank;
Where the cross-breeders vie
With hauteur in their eye
To reinforce Status and Rank

Xan, Xanadu's strange
Where the Ghem and the Haut-maidens scheme
But a Ba took the key
To the whole mystery,
And Miles is ready to scream.

Oh, show me a home
Where the witch-women roam
And the suspected dissidents play,
Where never is heard
A disparaging word
'Cause Millisor Takes Them Away.

Xan, Xanadu's strange
With its gardens of rare artifice,
But give me unrest
Of the Ceta oppress'd
Or the peons infected with lice.

Oh, here is a land
Where the Ghem-scions' grand
Gatherings are becoming a bore,
Where the talk turns with ease
To the latest Feelies
But seldom if ever to War.

Xan, Xanadu's strange
Where Miles finds the first signs of rot,
As he unwisely strays
Thru the social malaise
To see who put him on the spot.

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Last updated: June 8th 2002