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Been having lots of trouble getting anything substantial written for awhile and it gets frustrating writing and rewriting the same few paragraphs over and over again because you're never happy with it. So I decided to take a little break and write a song that I've been toying with in my head for awhile now. The story is set in the slums of an industrial city and this song is a favourite among the lower classes. (Not sure yet whether to have one of my characters write the song, or for it to just be a popular folk song in the area.) Either way it's a first draft and needs a lot of polish, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Very much captures the tone of the story.

 

My Father was a Drunkard

My father was a drunkard,
My mother was a whore.
I lived on crumbs and table scraps,
From off the kitchen floor.
My shirt was a potato sack,
My crib a cupboard drawer.
One night my father left to drink,
And ne’er returned no more.

 

My brother is a drunkard,
My sister is a whore.
I earn my living picking locks,
And pockets by the score.
The guard’s been on my tail for years,
I swear this life’s a chore.
But man needs coin to buy his bread,
And kegs of ale to pour.

 

See, I am now a drunkard,
My lover is a whore.
She fucks a dozen men a day,
The girl that I adore.
She lies and cheats and beats me blue,
Still I come back for more.
But now it burns whene’er I piss,
And my cock is swollen sore!

 

Our sons will all be drunkards,
Our daughters will be whores.
Their children will all be the same,
As we all were before.
They’ll all live fast and all die young,
That’s all life has in store.
Life chews you up and spits you out,
When you’re born low and poor.

 

A toast to all the drunkards,
A toast to all the whores.
We’ll drink and smoke and fight all night,
Till we’re kicked out the door.
Spare us our simple pleasures,
That’s all that life is for.
Come sing with me, my curs and thieves,
Encore, encore, encore!

Nice rhythm, I can see it being shouted loudly in a tavern!  Out of curiosity, did you have a tune you imagined this going to?  When I read it, the beat and rhyme scheme immediately made my brain hum it to the tune of "Ain't gonna rain no more", if you're familiar with that song.

Why, yes! I have an exact tune in mind. The tune goes:

Dum dum dee dum dee dum dum,

Dum dum dee dum dee dum.

Dum dum dee dum dee dum dee dum,

Dum dum dee dum dee dum!

Seriously though, I just listened to "It Ain't Gonna Rain No More," and it does sound somewhat similar to the tune I had in mind, but a tad slower. ^_^

One night my father left to drink,
And ne’er returned no more.

I would do, "And he returned no more" so you can avoid the "ne'er" which I don't think you need there.

 

But now it burns whene’er I piss,
And my cock is swollen sore!

 

Here, the meter of the second line is off--I would try "But now it burns me when I piss / my cock is swollen sore" -- that way you can keep the iambic trimeter steady in that second line without the triple stressed syllables.

This is awesome.

 

But I like the ne'er! And the when'er! What's your problem with 'ers?

Thinking about it though, maybe they sound out of place because the rest of the song is in modern English, Perhaps, instead of changing the 'er words, I could change some of the other words to make it sound more ye olde English. I was originally considering a more celtic sort of dialect. "Mah feyther was a drunkard, mah mither was a whore." Will think about it some.

You're right though, I can fix the second line by just getting rid of the "and". Thank you! ^_^

I guess I just feel like you should use poetic elisions only when the meter absolutely forces you to.  Otherwise you're going to end up in "o'er" and "t'other" town.  Maybe it's just me.

T'other town sounds like a lovely place! Makes me want to add even more 's. ^_^

For what it's worth, I like the e'ers as well. Sounds less formal and more folksy.

This song is even jollier! A lovely little nursery rhyme that I put together today. It's about the "Harvester's" a very helpful organization, dedicated to assisting budding young scientists by gathering the specimens they need for their experiments. ^_^

The Harvester

Stay in your houses and stay out of sight,
The harvester’s reaping his harvest tonight.
He comes with his sickle, he comes with his scythe,
He comes not for farming, he comes for your life.
He comes not for barley, he comes not for grain,
He comes for your liver, he comes for your brain.
He cuts not the wheat, he cuts not the rye,
He cuts out your organs, he cuts till you die.

Come out at daylight, come to the square,
The harvester’s dancing a jig in the air.
He stands on a stool and he falls the short drop,
He puts on a show with a twirl and a flop.
We all sing a tune so his feet can keep pace,
We let out a cheer when they finally brace.
And now comes the raven, and now comes the crow,
You reap what you sew, you reap what you sew.

*reap what you sow

I tried not to say anything because I know it just edit locks you so you can't fix it anyway, but I break out into a cold sweat every time someone gets that one wrong.

Anyway, I'm enjoying these, they feel very authentically folksy and I hope they inspire you to do some more work on your game. You should also make one about about an average and plain girl who is beautiful and good at everything, and her beloved dragon, and then continue being inspired to NOT write about that.

What makes you think I didn't mean sew as in needle and thread? Your shirt is falling apart? Well, you reap what you sew! Go practice your backstitch.

And thank you for reminding me. I really should get back to The Dragon's Slave. Arabella and Charlie never even got to have a lesbian fling!

Didn't have anything to do today, so I thought I'd come up with a tune to the creepy nursery rhyme. Thinking of putting together a little shadow puppet style animated video to it, but that would take awhile. In the mean time, here's my best impression of a four year old Victorian boy! ^_^