This was my first attempt at a filk… ever. The story of this is a few fold over. I was coming back from an event called, “The Endewearde Hunt.” This is an archery focused event. I so so inspired by the talent and skill that I had seen that day. I also had decided that I didn’t think there were enough songs about archers. I was discussing with my travel companions about previous event in which before things were serious and after camp had been set up that we all broke out into “Bohemian Rhapsody”. It had then struck me, Bohemian Rhapsody.. Bow-Hemian Rhapsody. I was inspired as my light bulb turned on. Thus I feverishly began to jot down lyrics and thus, this was born.
Bow-Hemian Rhapsody- Filk by Lady Sölveig Bjornadóttir
Is this the field life
Is this just practicing
Caught up with scoring
No escape from targetry
Open your eyes
Look up at the prize and see
I’m just a bow boy, I need no armoring
because its aim it high, aim it low
Shoot the arrow, at a foe
Any way the wind blows, sorta really matters to me, to me
Yeoman, just straddled the line
Knocked a bolt onto my bow
loose the string now its a go
Yeoman, rounds have just begun
and now you’ve gone and fired them all away
Yeoman, oooo
Didn’t mean to make you cry
But some times Grandmaster bow men win them all
Loose on, loose on, as if scoring doesn’t matter
Too late, my fletching’s gone
Sent pointies down the line
Skimmed the petticote sometimes
Goodbye everybody, i’ve got to go
It’s time to pack my tackle and head to court
Marshall, oooo
I just wanna rank
More than just bowman once again
I see the little silouette of a deer
Let it fwoosh, let it fwoosh
Do you see the arrow flying
Thunder camp is frighting, with sword and boards a fighting
Little bow man, Little bow man
Little bow man, Little bow man
Little bowman – Bullseye
I’m just a bow boy, no swords point at me
He’s just a bow boy, from a bow family
Spare me your gripes and your pomposity
Pull it back, let it go, till the martial calls a hold
We’ve lost the tip! We always lose the tip. (Not the tip!)
We’ve lost the tip! We always losethe tip. (Not the tip!)
We’ve lost the tip! We always lose the tip. (Not the tip!)
We always lose the tip. (Not the tip)
Yes we always lost the tip
Always lose the tip,
Bow. bow, bow, bow, bow bow bow
Oh, mama mia, mama mia (Mama mia, loose the bow.)
Your majesty has a medal put aside for me
For me
For me!!!!
Crossbows think they can sit there and steal the bullseyes
Mundanes think they can stroll past the field line alive!
Oh Baby!
Get off the field baby!
You gotta get out
You gotta get right out of here
Archers really matter
Anyone can see
Archers really matter to me
Anyway the wind blows
Meddlings of the Minnesinger 