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BLUE SUN ROOM FILK
Found in Sir Warrick Harrow's townhouse on Ariel, shortly after his death at 92, while fighting off three jealous husbands.
CATEGORY: FILK TIMES READ: 1980 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
I came to Persephone without two rocks to bang together
A poor man with a strong arm and a strong will
With that arm and that will I became what I am
And my crest shows lightning, struck from stones grasped in two mailed fists
I fought hard but fair for what I wanted
Never cheated an honest man, since the crooks were easier to deceive
Only broke the laws that needed to be broken
Didn’t own or deal in slaves, having been one once myself
Lately, though, I’d lost my edge, my hunger
Just letting things slide, not having any fun
Dealing safe through middlemen and small-timers
Content to be “Sir Warrick Harrow”, the noble gentleman
Then that gorram cattle deal came along
Lord, such a penny-ante thing to have such an effect
That low-life Badger said he knew just the ship for the job
Such a mundane start for a life-changing experience
After the duel, and after the deal, I knew things had to change
Forced from the rut I’d dug for myself, I saw what I’d become
Folk were out there living life on the edge. Living!
And I was sitting like a lump in my mansion, getting old
My pistol and knife were still in the bottom of the trunk
Wrapped in oiled cloth, shiny clean and ready to go
Although I did have to let the gunbelt out a few notches
But my weapons still come to hand without conscious thought
So now I’m out among the worlds again, making my way
I use my money to get what I want, and sometimes my fists as well
Taking my ship where I will. Asking no man’s leave
Buying and selling and fighting for what’s mine
And if someday on some little piss-ant moon
My hand is a little too slow, or my aim a little bit off
At least I’ll go down fighting, not lying abed surrounded by quacks
A fitting end for the man I once was, and now am again
Although I hate to say it, guess I owe Badger a vote of thanks
If it hadn’t been for him, and Reynolds, and Atherton Wing’s big mouth
I’d still be at those banquets, trying to remember what fork to use
Instead of walking large in the ‘verse, a man once again.
Tuesday, August 03, 2004 6:55 AM
Monday, December 20, 2004 10:25 AM
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