Spider-Spider! Spider-Spider!
Does the things ordinary spiders do
Spins a web, about two feet across
Doesn’t catch thieves, they are huge
Look out!
Don’t step on the Spider-Spider!

Is she strong? Listen bud!
She’s only the size of your fingernail!
Can she swing from a thread?
Yes, every night over your bed.
Shower-time?
There sits the Spider-Spider!

In the chill of night
in a place with some bugs
like a streak of light
she gives them deadly hugs

Spider-Spider! Spider-Spider!
Friendly neighborhood Spider-Spider!
Wealth and fame?
She’s ignored!
Catching bugs, is her reward.

To her, life is a couple years long
It’s a sad way to end this song
Sucks to be you,
poor little Spider-Spider

I stayed up too late
There’s a buzzing in my brain
Oh why am I awake? Uuu-ugh
Why am I awake? Uuu-ugh

I can’t feel most of my face
I’m stumbling all around the place
Oh why am I awake? Uuu-ugh
Why am I awake? Uuu-ugh

The cats need feeding
Shut up, I’m up
Move it
Or I’ll step on you and then I might just
fall right on down the stairs

’cause the cats are gonna play play play play play
While my hair is going gray gray gray gray gray
At least I won’t be late late late late late
’cause I’m awake at dawn
awake at dawn

My back is gonna break break break break break
Give me some coffee cake cake cake cake cake, baby
At least I won’t be late late late late late
’cause I’m awake at dawn
awake at dawn

My glasses can’t be found
I hope that’s not them on the ground
What was that crunching sound? Uh ooh
What was that crunching sound? Uh ooh

Coffee’s in the microwave (in the microwave)
Gourmets might think that it’s a shame (it’s an awful shame)
So what? I’m a caffeine slave, mm-mmm
Yeah I’m a caffeine slave, mm-mmm

Give me some donuts
Right now or I’ll go nuts
If you think Bruce Banner’s grumpy then
all I’ll say is you ain’t seen grumpy yet

In bed I’d rather lay lay lay lay lay
But I gotta start my day day day day day
At least I won’t be late late late late late
’cause I’m awake at dawn
awake at dawn

This headache’s gonna stay stay stay stay stay
It’s not gonna go away way way way way
At least I won’t be late late late late late
’cause I’m awake at dawn
awake at dawn

Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, oh-oh-oh

Hey-hey-hey!
Just think, while you’ve been groping around
because you’re trying to get ahead
you could have been snuggled up
in your! warm! bed!

My boss man
won’t be there ’til ten
I’m like, “Oh my God,”
but I’m still awake
And to the fella over there
with the rumpled bed hair,
I feel your pain, buddy
’cause I’m wide awake, wake, wake

Yeah
’cause the cats are gonna play play play play play
While my hair is going gray gray gray gray gray
At least I won’t be late late late late late
’cause I’m awake at dawn
awake at dawn

My back is gonna break break break break break
Give me some coffee cake cake cake cake cake
At least I won’t be late late late late late
’cause I’m awake at dawn
awake at dawn

Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh, yeah
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh

Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, why am I
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, enh-enh
Awake at dawn, awake at dawn, oh-oh-oh-ooooooh

“Hymn to Breaking Strain” by Julia Ecklar and Leslie Fish

The careful textbooks measure: “Let all who build beware!
The load, the shock, the pressure material can bear.”
So when the buckled girder lets down the grinding span
The blame of loss or murder, is laid upon the man
Not on the steel– the man!

But in our daily dealing with stone and steel, we find
the gods have no such feeling of justice toward mankind!
To no such gauge they make us, for no laid course prepare.
In time they overtake us with loads we cannot bear
Too merciless to bear

The prudent textbooks give it in tables at the end:
The stress that shears a rivet, or makes a tie-bar bend
What traffic wrecks macadam, what concrete should endure
But we poor sons of Adam, have no such literature
To warn us or make sure

We hold all Earth to plunder, all time and space as well
Too wonder-stale to wonder at each new miracle
’til in the mid-illusion of Godhood ‘neath our hand
Falls multiple confusion on all we did or planned
The mighty works we planned

We only in creation! How much luckier the bridge and rail!
Abide the twin damnation: to fail, and know we’ve failed!
Yet we– by which sole token we know we once were gods–
Take shame in being broken, however great the odds!
The burden or the odds

Oh, Veiled and Secret Power Whose Paths We Seek in Vain,
Be with us in our hour of overthrow and pain!
That we– by which sure token we know Thy ways are true–
In spite of being broken
–Or because of being broken?–
Rise up and build anew!
Stand up and build anew!

-The Gneech

EDIT: It has since been pointed out to me that Rudyard Kipling wrote the poem that comprise the lyrics of this! Which, as someone with a degree in English and who actually, y’know, studied some Kipling, makes me feel like a bit of a nimrod. ^.^’ What I said about it being the most steampunk song ever written still applies, tho!

(To the tune of “16 Tons” by Tennessee Ernie Ford…)

You blow 16 tons of junk out your nose
try to do it discreetly where it doesn’t show
You blow 16 tons, and what happens then?
You get out another tissue and do it again

Sinusitis is a crap malady
you have it every day but get no sympathy
You blow 16 tons out your nose every day
but it ain’t good for nothing, so you throw it away

You blow 16 tons of junk out your nose
try to do it discreetly where it doesn’t show
You blow 16 tons, and what happens then?
You get out another tissue and do it again

If boogers were gold I’d be a rich man
instead crusty dragons fill my garbage can
If I had stock in Kleenex I could pay my own way
‘cos I use at least twelve boxes every day

You blow 16 tons of junk out your nose
try to do it discreetly where it doesn’t show
You blow 16 tons, and what happens then?
You get out another tissue and do it again

Blowing out 16 tons, you’d think I’d lose weight
The Sinusitis Diet man, sure would be great!
When doomsday arrives, I’ll know how it goes:
I’m going to blow the whole world right out through my nose

You blow 16 tons of junk out your nose
try to do it discreetly where it doesn’t show
You blow 16 tons, and what happens then?
You get out another tissue…
…and you do it again!

-The Gneech

(to a country-western twang)

I want to write a story, I want to write a tale
I want to see it published and get checks in the mail
I wanna be the hottest thing that you have ever seen
but all that I am doing, is staring at the screen!

I’ve got a case of writer’s block, as you can plainly see
I had it something awful now, since 2000-and-3!
I’ve got character and setting, but I haven’t got a shot
’cause all these things are useless if I haven’t got a plot

Nothing happens!
Nothing happens!
Nothing happens in my tale

Nothing happens!
Nothing happens!
My story is a fail

Perhaps I try a bit too hard, perhaps I should relax
perhaps I oughta just write down a tale based on the facts
Just give your guy a problem, the writing coaches say
then figure out how his quirks will help him save the day

But nothing happens!
Nothing happens!
Nothing happens in my tale

Nothing happens!
Nothing happens!
My story is a fail

It’s causing me some anguish, my lame attempts at art
you can’t ever finish, what you never start
But your muse will never flourish, when threatened by a gun
so I’m gonna write a filk about it, and then call it done

’cause nothing happens!
Nothing happens!
Nothing happens in my tale

Nothing happens!
Nothing happens!
My story is a fail!

-The Gneech

(to the tune of ‘Holly Jolly Christmas’)

Have an introverted Christmas
with a small group of your friends
And then sigh with deep relief
when it finally ends

Have an introverted Christmas
but don’t make too much fuss
We won’t force you to put on smiles
there’s no-one here but us

Ho, ho, the mistletoe
Hung where you can see
and know how far to stay away
hangin’ out by the tree

Have an introverted Christmas
the phone is off the hook
Tell the folks I said hello
and then went back to my book.

-The Gneech