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Lyrics: Cerian Cantwr            
Music: Garden Where the Praties Grow
(aka Why Paddy's Not at Work Today)

When first I joined the SCA, it seemed so very fun -
There were crafts to learn, and stuff to do, and things that must be done.
I jumped on in with both my feet and this led to my fall.
Before I’d been in half a year, I was group seneschal.

I got used to my office, and soon I’d lost my fear –
And sent on in the same report about four times a year.
I then became web minister, and once I got used to that,
I found out that our group event did need an autocrat.

As I promoted our event, it garnered some renown –
And on the day it somehow had three vigils and the crown.
We drew a crowd none had foreseen, and soon were overrun.
How do you fir three hundred in a space designed for one?

Now somehow we got through that day with praises and acclaim.
To my great shock I then found out kingdom officers knew my name.
I became one of their deputies, a thing I had not planned,
For floating there above my head, was the helium in my hand.

Now older, but no wiser, I try to do still more –
I brew beer for our baron and I make scrolls by the score.
As each new need in turn appears, undaunted still I chime,
“How can I help you out with that? I’m sure I have the time.”

I now run seven websites and of offices hold a few.
I am our kingdom’s guildmaster and host monthly practice too.
The king has called me into court, said my workload was absurd,
That someone who did all these things was truly for the birds.

So I became a pelican, if which I am still awed,
Then nominations did pour in, which put me on the BOD.
I now do so damn many things, but still can not refrain.
So I ask my friends, “Please stop me, before I volunteer again.”

© 2017 Charles Grab

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