Sweet Dr. Jane
by Harry Smothers
(Tune: "Sweet Baby James" by James Taylor)
There is an old filkhand, she lives by the Bay
Her tapes and her filkbooks are found at her table
She writes about vampires1 and sings when she's able
As if maybe somebody hears
And as the moon rises, she wheels for the filk
Thinking about chocolate2 and feeding the drive
Closing her eyes; this is like mother's milk
She sings out a song in a voice made of silk
But that's not what keeps her alive
Now, the end of October was covered in song
So were the filksings from Bayfilk to Boskone
The groans rose up high; your sweet voice was the frosting
With ten songs behind you, and ten hundred more tonight.
There's a song that they sing as they take to the highway
A song that they filk as they pack for the con
A song that they play on their auto's cassette deck
You can sing it, or one of its known parodies
As if it's some new filk disease...
Written 1993 (12/25/93, amended 3/23/94) by Gerald L. Bliss
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Thank you, Cindy, for your wonderful songs! Contributions to this lyric: 1 Lynn Gold, 2 Cynthia McQuillen