Enjoy the forced rhyme at the end of the second line. Go on, you know you want to!
They are now to be among you at the breaking of your voice, Rest assured the filkers here are all completely hoarse. From the evening till the morning they've been singing on and on, For whenever two or more of them are gathered at a con There is filk, There is filk. Now a man shall leave his labours and a woman leave her job, And they shall travel to the con and join the fannish mob. In the filking room their voices will dwindle into dust, For a filker knows what he can sing and filks the songs he must When he filks, When he filks. So then what's to be your next song when your voice is nearly dead? Is it fun or ose or serious, or a Nyrond song instead? Well a Nyrond's just a filker with a huckster in his heart; His song may go in triple time, but what the hell, it's art! It is filk, It is filk. They are now to be among you at the strumming of guitars, Rest assured these filkers have been thrown out of the bars For singing loudly, out of tune, till every voice has gone, For wherever two or more of them are gathered at a con There is filk, There is filk.