Subject: Filk From: lfm@atw.fullfeed.com (Jeff JT Vogt) Date: 1996/08/26 Message-Id: <4vsr52$rk5@peter.atw.fullfeed.com> Newsgroups: alt.fan.furry.muck This was written by Heliogabalus of FurryMuck. I claim no authorship or responsbility. He simply asked me to post it for him. ------- Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band Dedicated to the wizzes and maintainers of FurryMuck. -Heliogabalus It was just six years ago this fall That this furless guy whose name was Paul Sat behind a monitor and planned A venue for a band to stand. So let me introduce to you The folks who make it all come true, Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band! We're Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band. We hope you all enjoy the Muck. Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band! Sit back and watch the furries . . . rock! Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band! It's wonderful to work here! It's really been a ball! You're such a fuzzy audience We'd love to give you chocolate mints, We'd love to fluff you all! I don't really wanna stop the show, But I thought you might like to know That the fox-morph's gonna sing a song And we want you all to yiff along. So put your paws together, please, For the one and only S'A'Alis! Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band! (Aaaaaaa Uuuuuuuuu Ppppppppppp!) ***** What would you do if the server slowed down, Would you stand up and log off on me? Sit in the park, spreading spam all around, And I'll try to keep things all lag-free. Oh, I'll try with a little help from caffeine. Oh, I get by with a little help from caffeine. O-pen my eyes with a little help from caffeine. 'How do you feel when there's nofurry on?' There's no lag . . . sometimes it feels great! 'What would you do if your friends were all gone?' I've got lots waiting to @pcreate! Oh, I'll try with a little help from caffeine. Oh, I get by with a little help from caffeine. O-pen my eyes with a little help from caffeine. 'Do you need anyfurry To refill your coffee cup?' No, you see, everyfurry, That it's forever filled up! 'Would you believe in love in cyberland?' Well my lawyer told me not to tell . . . 'What do you see underneath the bandstand?' I can't tell you but it sure does smell! Oh, I'll try with a little help from caffeine. Oh, I get by with a little help from caffeine. O-pen my eyes with a little help from caffeine. 'Do you need anyfurry To refill your coffee cup?' No, you see, everyfurry, That it's forever filled up! Oh, I'll try with a little help from caffeine. Oh, I get by with a little help from caffeine. O-pen my eyes with a little help from caffeine. With a little help from caffe-e-e-e-e-ine! ***** [Let me deny unequivocally that this song was inspired by sniffing a hallucinogenic cat. I didn't notice until I read it on the flameboard that the initials of the title spell 'LYNX.' As a matter of fact, I got the idea from a GIF I downloaded from Avatar called 'Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-Rays'] Picture yourself on a ship on the ocean With choklit dark waves and striped truffle skies. Somefurry's purring; you scritch him quite slowly-- The cat with the sapphire eyes! Elegant eartufts of bright golden fur Towering over his head! You hug the wynxie whose words are all-y's And you're gone! Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Follow him 'cross the wide, uncharted ocean Whose whipped-cream-topped waves roll along like his 'r's.' Clouds drift by looking like kitty-shaped cookies With white-choklit sprinkles for stars. Minions of Atamon lurk on the shore Hoping to sweep him away, Clutch at the cat with ice-sparkling eyes But he's gone! Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Picture yourself in Mathematica's harbour, Departing to seek where the Sangreal lies . . . Somefurry ydles, a paw on the wheel, The lynx with the half-open eyes . . . Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Lynxie Yn the Nyght by X-rays! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! ***** It's getting bigger all the time! I used to get mad at myself, (Now I can't complain!) Plantigrade and skin smooth as delft, (Now I can't complain!) Slave to nature's laws, (A-ha!) My head in my paws, (A-ha!) Living my life on the shelf. But these days the Muck is getting bigger. It's getting bigger all the time! (But can it hold more furs?) I have to admit it's getting bigger, A little bigger . . . More folks online! Me used to be angry young man-- Me only grew hair on me hand! But I heard the word! I finally got furred And woke up beneath the bandstand! And these days the Muck is getting bigger. It's getting bigger all the time! (But can it hold more furs?) I have to admit it's getting bigger, A little bigger . . . More folks online! Getting so much bigger all the time! It's getting bigger all the time! Bigger, bigger, bigger! I used to be cruel to the hyoomans I flamed them And said that they'd ruin our nice neighfurhood. I still think that's true But hey what can you do? I'm just hiding my head in the spam! I have to admit it's getting bigger, It's getting bigger all the time! (But can it hold more furs?) I have to admit it's getting bigger, A little bigger . . . More folks online! Getting so much bigger all the time! ***** I'm fixing a hole in the next fi-eld That stops the Muck from booting up When it falls down! I'm breaking it out of an infinite-loop That keeps the dbase cycling Till it crashes! And it really doesn't matter If it's now corrupt, 'Cause we just backed it up Six hours ago. All the furries wait out there, Pounding keys, E-mailing pleas, And wondering why they can't log on no more! I'm archiving things in a sensible way So I'll still have them after we've Recompiled! And it really doesn't matter If it's now corrupt, 'Cause we just backed it up Six hours ago. Silly furries build too much, Homes and buttons, morphs and such Until the hard disk up and cries 'No more!' I'm taking the time for a sanity-check, To show the server ink blots ('Those are lynx-spots!') Oh fixing a hole in the database! I'm fixing a hole in the database! ***** Monday morning at five o'clock As the day begins, Sitting behind a locked bedroom door, She's still online from the night before. She runs downstairs to the kitchen During the a.m. save, Perks up some coffee that's strong and black, Grabbing a cup she goes back. She (Why did we give her that thing?) Is logging (I don't think she's studying . . . ) On (We gave her everything money could buy.) She's logging on after living a yawn all her 18 years . . . Bye, bye. Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown, Goes to the bedside, picks up the phone, Listens a moment to the grating tone, Slams it down And says to her husband, 'Henry, she's on that thing! What is she doing, what can it mean? Why can't she be more like other teens?!' She (Why can't she just have smoked pot?) Is logging (Got herself pregnant or shot?) On (We have been normal, at least, all our lives!) She's logging on after living a yawn all her 18 years . . . Bye, bye. Monday morning at six o'clock She's still far away, Ignoring her mother's knock on the door, Chatting away by the bulletin board . . . She (What did we do that was wrong?) Is logging (We didn't know it was wrong!) On (Fur is the one thing that money can't buy . . . ) Something inside that was always denied all her 18 years . . . She's logging on. Bye, bye. ***** For the benefit of everyfur There will be a massacre Of cocoa beans. No sugar cane will be reprieved And ungulates will be relieved Of milk and cream! Over treats and toffees, Sweets and coffees, Even a whole hogshead of real SPAM, With sweet sauce Chip the horned hoss Will cover the land! The picnic starts at ten till six With all the owl-morphs counting licks On tootsie-pops. The furries all will dance and sing As from the Horn they're ordering 'Whipped cream on top.' There'll be spoofs and scuffles S'mores and truffles Floating on the music of the Band. And of course Tug' the tin horse Does the can-can! The celebrated plenteous horn Creates these treats most every morn' And every night. In the West Corner of the Park It gives you all your choice of dark Or milk or white. Mr. European assures the public All the calories are sent /dev/null. And he thinks Even the Lynx Is gonna get full! ***** We were talking About the problems of the Muck. 'Lynch that Lumpy!' 'Age-locking does (or doesn't) suck . . . ' At the Town Hall, With Chip Unicorn . . . But it's much too lagged So we go away. We were talking About opinions we don't share. Should we TS? And if so who and how and where? Alphabet soup, C.D.A.U.P. The T|D bell rang And we went away. Please remember too That everything you do Or say or whispurr will be in the log. In HTML Will be available To every dragon, duck and dog, To everyone within fur and without fur. We were passing Around the first and second staves And discussing some plans that we thought might just save The whole muck, But the delta came, And it's much too long So we went away. Try to look beyond your whiskers You may see Some way we Can all agree . . . And the time may come When you see it's for fun And life goes on within fur and without fur . . . ***** When I get older, losing my fur, Several weeks from now, Will you still be sending me a trufflegram, Birthday pond-toss, page #mail hugspam? If I start bapping furs with a cane Till my paws are sore, Will you renounce me, Will you still pounce me, When I'm 24? You'll be older too! And, if you come of @age, I'll TS with you . . . I could be spammy Writing @shout, Other globals too. Get the hiccups and turn into a female. Card says 'Go directly to jail!' If I just stood there swishing my tail, Would it be a bore? Would you still yiff me, Would you still scritch me, Were I Riss the 'taur? Every evening we can reminisce about Islandia, If it's not too lagged. Play 'Those Were The Days!' Newbies and Guests look on, As our fur turns grey. Send me page #mail, do an @shout, Chip it in a rock, Stitch it in a sampler over your fossil bed, 'Toast lives on!' and 'Claire isn't dead!' Let's go out on one more carbon-date . . . Old forever more! Will you still fluff me, Do you still love me As a dinosaur? ***** Lovely Revar, evil bat, Lovely Revar, evil bat, Lovely Revar, evil bat, Nothing could stand between us! When it won't start You recompile my heart! Turned down by a real yiff-teaser, Then I caught a glimpse of Revar Sharpening the points on all her dainty white teeth! With those ears she looked a fennec; One would have to be a cynic Not to be won over by her innocent charms! Lovely Revar, evil bat, May I inquire discreetly, When are you free to drink type B from me? Lost my heart and tried to win her; Almost got to be her dinner When I asked her would she hang with me upside down? Doted on the dear Derysi, Idling there, it seemed to me she Might just go batbatty and retoad the whole town. Lovely Revar, evil bat, Where would we be without you? Give me a ping and let me sing to you! ***** Nothing to do but walk the dog, So I log in. Nothing to say But what the hay? Sit there talkin'. She sends me a page-- I check her @age! Just one thing to express About TS . . . It's boring! It's boring! It's boring! Sit in the park, I wonder if She is yiffy. Discussion slows So I just pose Up a stiffy. From first to last it's TediouS, But we have nothing to discuss. Everyfur around is half asleep, There's nothing for it but to *BLEEP* It's boring! It's boring! It's boring! After a while You've lost your style, You a feel a fool. Nothing to do But taxi to The T|D pool. Nothing has changed, The same old game! You've got nothing to say But sit and play. It's boring! It's boring! It's boring! Furries logging on, It's five o'clock! And until the dawn They're gonna . . . muck. Everyfurry out is idling, While their alts are inside TSing . . . Everyfurry's checking out your @desc; Glad you set it To {list:aroused}-- It's not allowed, Might regret it. Play the 'Lup-pup To cover up You've got nothing to say, But that's okay! It's boring! It's boring! It's boring! ***** We're Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band We hope you have enjoyed the filk. Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band For you and all your furry ilk. Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Sgt. Centaur's Lonely We're Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band, Here's something to alarm the brave . . . Sgt. Centaur's one and only Lonely Harts Club Band It's getting very near the save! Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Sgt. Centaur's Lonely Harts Club Band ***** I read the board today, oh boy! About a lucky fur who found a clue. And though the park was rather spammed, Well I just had to see If there was one for me . . . He wrote that he was logging off, He seemed to notice that the Muck that changed . . . A crowd of furries stood and stared; They'd seen his face somewhere, But nofurry was really sure if he was Lumpy, Lynx or Claire! I'd love to fluff you up. I read a filk today, oh boy! About the wizzes running FurryMuck. And though the filk was rather bad, Well I just had to laugh, I saw the GIF. I'd love to fluff you up. ......;,.;:,;::;;;;:;;;::|`(\~{\|()}|+$^ =^$-#@%$*^$%$%@%({#$#%#**@@)}#%#&^%#&^#! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [escalating line-noise] Woke up 'Neath the bandstand To the playing the band. Read my 'watch for,' gave the Muck a wake-up @shout, And squirming out, I stood there in the park. Waved 'Hello' and snugged a cat, Lagged for seven seconds flat, Gave the lag-beastie a nasty poke Then somefurry spoke And I drowned in sudden spam . . . Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I read the @bulletin, oh boy! 6 billion vixens now on FurryMuck . . . Although they're mostly played by men, They had to number them, So now they know how many yiffs it takes to screw a lightbulb in! I'd love to fluff you up. -- Jeffery L. "JT" Vogt director@atw.fullfeed.com Regional Director (414) 954-0444 FullFeed Communications of the Fox Valley, LLC http://www.atw.fullfeed.com