New Funeral Hymns

 As I've mentioned in recent posts, I play D&D with a group of friends. I have a bard character that have created - he's an adventurer in the vein of Phil Ochs or Woody Guthrie, rather than the stereotypical 'horny bard.'  Rather than trying to seduce anything that moves, he sings about the strength of worker guilds and protests songs. 

I've been writing short little songs for him to sing in game. 

Think of this one as a revolutionary song that is only just barely disguised by a sort of apocalyptic veneer. No one is exactly sure what he's singing about, but it's not quite enough to keep him from being charged with treason against the king. 

Before the blue variations, a curse over five, over three
and when the king is overthrown, sing for the rising of the sea.
Sing new funeral hymns, sing poisoned songs,
for all the agents of his throne.
The scenery of earth is lifted up
before the glory and the beauty come down.
We'll storm this awkward castle, climb the walls and raise a battle call.
When strong hands are lifted up, we'll see that old tyrant fall. 

The Riddle

 I have a few little songs that I've been writing for my D&D bard character to sing. This is another silly one. My bard will have a full songbook soon. 

Hey nonny nonny
Oh nonny oh
Hey nonny nonny oh

Hey diddle diddle 
This is the riddle 
Of the boy who flew to the moon
The rockets were scrapped 
And the beer kegs were tapped
to provide enough lift for the balloon. 

Other songs in my bard's songbook include: 
The Irony of Kings
Say Good Morning While It Is Still Morning 
The Dragon Roland Reagan and Other Monsters 

The Irony of Kings

 Here is another lofi dining room recording of a short song I wrote for my D&D bard to sing. We have a session coming up soon and I'm building up quite a little repertoire of songs for him to sing.

Now we shall sing
Now we shall sing
Now we shall sing
of the irony of kings
and all manner
of vain and worthless things. 

 

Say Good Morning While It Is Still Morning

 This little song began as another short ditty for my D&D bard character to sing, but as I carried the mail out and about this week, I greatly expanded it into something like a full song. 

Say good morning while it is still morning

Say it and be true
Then good morrow, now say good morrow
I'll share this blessing with you

I remember I used to go skipping
When I was a little boy
Now I'm grown up and grown older
I think I've forgotten that joy

There once was a kitten named Callie
Who came but she could not stay
She sat with me for a little while
Then she went far away

My daughter's gone over the ocean
My daughter's gone over the sea
She's been away such a long time
I think she's forgotten 'bout me

Sometimes we sing in the morning
Sometimes we sing at night
Sometimes we sing when we're lonely
And only the song feels right

If I were the King of Forever
Lord of time and space
I would give up that position and power
Just to see your sweet face

There's a verse in this song for my daughter
There's a verse here for a dead cat
I wrote a verse for my son as well
But I don't know where he's at

Say good morning while it is still morning
Say it and be true
Then good morrow, say good morrow
I'll share this blessing with you

The Dragon Roland Raygun and Other Monsters

 If you've paid any attention to this blog over the years, you may have already  guessed that I'm a bit of a dork. It's true. I know it. My girlfriend seems to appreciate it. 

I have a D&D character which is a bard. He's not really the stereotypical D&D bard, seducing the all women  - though he does have some bawdy songs in his repertoire.  He's more a sort of adventuring Woody Guthrie, a folk singer and folk hero. And, in advance of an upcoming gaming session, I have composed a couple of songs for my character to sing. 

There was a mighty dragon
whose name was Roland Raygun
but down he fell
straight into hell
for consorting with the pagans. 

Now I do not wish him tortured
though he torched my father's orchard. 
But how the hell
is his name so well 
remembered and blessed by fortune? 

The ogre with an iron hatchet
her name was Margot Thatchet.
She was a beast
to say the least 
and stirred up quite a racket. 

The kobold king for oil 
did loot, and raid, and spoil. 
He was blessed by priests
for war in the east
and greatly increased our toil. 

His son followed up years later
assuming the role of invader.
Oh what a bore,
again to war.
He made our trouble much greater. 

A Place Where the Rain Doesn't Fall

    This is a song about a couple of men that I knew a long time ago in another life. Bob I met in Rochester, Minnesota. And Rick I met in Danville, Illinois. I think about them sometimes, but I have no idea where either of them might be these days. 

Bob knows what he knows and it's hard to say more

He's lived in Saint Cloud and slept in Saint Paul
He was locked up in Mankato and run out of Duluth
He's homeless and ragged, but he knows what he knows

The public defender assigned to Rick's case
Can't do much for him when he's drunk at the trial
She pleads with the judge but he's thrown to the jail
He'll be sober as a stone as long as he's locked away

It's raining just now and I'm dry and I'm warm
With a hot cup of coffee and a roof over my head
But what about Rick I ask, and what about my friend Bob
He waits for the rain to stop until the library's closed

And then he'll look for a place where the rain doesn't fall