Slipps' Song Book

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Slipps
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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 08/09/12

((Enjoys continues to search through Slipps' songs for things that touch her while she performs for the missing singer. - Edited to fit Slipps

/e looks around with a slight smile, her contralto is rich, not quite throaty as she starts to sing, a note of pleasant surprise in her voice

Unexpected meetings
sos very differents
the glance, a touchs.

/e softens her voice, spreading her arms outwards, head tipping just a bit, ears forward

Whats memory is this
driftings through my minds
bringings me back to yous?

/e curls one paw back towards her heart, the other arm crosses her belly, her muzzle lifts as she sings

Unexpected feelings
so very similars
the desires, a needs

/e turns slightly, her tail curling around her legs, she smiles her voice lifting

No matters wheres I go
a moments rest
turns thoughts to dreams.

/e steps forward, ears cupping as she looks about, the dress clings to her form a slit in the fabric exposes the gold colored fur of her legs

Unexpected travels
so verys welcome
the paths, a plans

/e brings both paws together before her heart, ears dipping back as her muzzle lifts, her contralto may not be pushing her range, but it carries feeling

Withins our hearts
a feelings so sweet
the futures togethers.

/e smiles again, blushing prettily through her blond fur as she sings, turning her head to look around, ears flipping forward

Unexpected mates
so verys wanteds
the loves, a homes

/e turns, eyes bright, ears up, tone joyous as she sings, her voice lifting once again

More memories to makes
hopes in my souls
bringings me back to yous!

/e lets the notes fly as she finishes seeming surprised at the song, or the feelings, she drops to a curtsey then walks off the stage
Last edited by Slipps on 03/20/14, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 08/15/12

((Seems Slipps is not the only talent in the family. Ejoys continues to cover for the singer while she recovers with her family - Edited to fit Slipps as Enjoys no longer performs.

/e dress is almost demure but not quite, with the sweetheart neckline created by a ribbon, and the skirt falls only to her knees moving easily about her hips

Clockmakers, clockmakers
withs kisses so sweets
makes mes spins fors minutes
oh hows yous tease

/e lifts her arms and twirls a few steps, the skirt flaring up almost to her hips held to propriety only by her long tail curved around her

Ticks tocks yous winds mes ups
fors hours ands hours
thes pendulums swings

/e leans forward a bit, the ribbon has loosened, she turns her head to look at one paw, her fingers moving almost beckoning, her other paw sweeps the skirt back

Clockmakers, clockmakers
withs fingers so clevers
makes mes yearns fors seconds
I'ms beggings yous please

/e twirls again the skirt lifting a bit higher this time revealing blond colored thighs

Ticks tocks yous winds mes ups
fors hours ands hours
thes pendulums swings

/e rich contralto voice floats over the stage, cupped ears falling back as she crosses her arms to her shoulders in a soft self hug

Clockmakers, clockmakers
withs arms so strongs
makes mes longs fors days
oh hows yous tease

/e feet flash as she spins further along the stage, the skirt lifting up towards her waist, but she stops just before a clear glimpse is available

Ticks tocks yous winds mes ups
fors hours ands hours
thes pendulums swings

/e top slips over her shoulders, the ribbon lying loose through the fingers of the paw resting between her breasts, her ears flip saucily as she sings

Clockmakers, clockmakers
withs smiles so sures
makes mes yours fors evers
I'ms beggings yous please

/e twirls on last time to the end of the stage then stops, nearly breathless, eyes shining, clothes in flirty disarray

Ticks tocks yous winds mes ups
fors hours ands hours
thes pendulums swings

/e continues to hum the tune as she turns to walk off the stage, her tail swinging back and forth
Last edited by Slipps on 07/20/17, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 08/22/13

((With apologies to Dolly Parton and Jolene... This one is for Cosset - edited to be sung without the lovely lady about

/e wearily looks around, then her rich contralto voice rises as she stretches out an arm

Cossets, Cossets, Cossets, Cossets
I'ms tellings yous I'ms nots takings yous mans!
Cossets, Cossets, Cossets, Cossets
Please don'ts leaves hims just because yous cans!

/ponder

/e ' voice takes on a slight pleading tone

Yous looks are just beyonds compares,
those greasy locks ofs longs blonds hairs,
withs rhuemy eyes ands skins ofs emeralds greens.

/woo

/e tries to take a deep breath, but coughs a bit before backing up

Yous breaths is likes the deaths ofs springs,
yous voice is harsh likes winters rains,
ands I'ms nots competings withs yous, Cossets!

/shame

/e looks around trembling before turning back

Hims talks abouts mes ands I weeps,
I'ms havings nightmares ins mys sleeps,
froms cringings whens he calls mys names, Cossets...

/sad

/e shakes her head then lifts her face to meet the audience's eyes

Ands I cans easily understands
hows yous coulds easily leaves thats mans,
buts yous nots knows whats this means tos mes, Cossets!

/gag

/e lifts her voice even as it trembles, her ears lowering

Cossets, Cossets, Cossets, Cossets
I'ms tellings yous I'ms nots wantings yous mans!
Cossets, Cossets, Cossets, Cossets
Please don'ts leaves hims justs because yous cans!

/shiver

/e sweeps her paw out, indicating the crowd

I coulds haves mys choice ofs mens,
Ands I woulds nevers choose thats mans!
Hes nots the ones fors mes, Cossets....

/gut

/e drops her muzzle, her shoulders droop

I hads tos has this talks withs yous,
I'ms desperates ands it's alls ons yous!
Whatevers yous decides tos do, Cossets...

/beg

/e ' contralto drops almost to a whisper as she pleads

Cossets, Cossets, Cossets, Cossets
I'ms tellings yous I'ms nots wantings yous mans!
Cossets, Cossets, Cossets, Cossets
Please don'ts leaves hims evens thoughs yous cans!
Cossets, Cossets

/cry
Last edited by Slipps on 10/10/14, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 02/21/14

((For Alessio and Ginneve...

/e picks up a lute, small, brown and battered, she cradles it a moment with a soft smile on her muzzle before touching claw to string. The notes are gently haunting as is her voice

Hows coulds I expects others tos see,
whens I coulds nots myselfs?
Scars ons mys face,
ons mys hearts,
mys souls.

/e lute looks like it had been shattered at one time, horribly splintered from some awful force, each shard highlighted by the varnish. The singer treats the instrument carefully and the notes seem to tentatively reach out

Hidings the reals persons underneaths,
afraids tos believes ins loves.
Scars ons mys hearts,
ons mys souls,
mys face.

/e holds the lute as one would an injured child, carefully stroking the strings, coaxing the music to meld with her voice

The awfuls things thats I hads dones,
ins mys lifes befores?
Scars ons mys souls,
ons mys face,
mys hearts.

/e smiles and lifts her muzzle to sing, weaving tune and melody proving the lute is not as frail as it seems

Dids yous knows withs thats flirtings smiles,
the changes yous mades?
Scars ons mys souls,
ons mys face.

/e claws dance over the strings letting the music show that whomever restored the instrument had felt more than the just the need to recraft it

Hows yous listeneds beyonds mys words
tos gives mes hopes.
Scars ons mys face.

/e lute glows with burnished love and care as the notes swirl gracefully out to brush the listeners hearts

Yous traceds mys smiles, lookeds ins mys eyes
kisseds mys lips.

/e singing is bouyed by the music from the lute and both soar with joy as she finishes the song

Gathereds close ins yours arms
I realizeds thats loves is nots blinds,
yous saws the beautys ins the beasts.

/e lets the music drift a moment longer, then lowering the lute she curtsies

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 04/06/14

(( I wrote this a while ago for another performer who was a fan of the original song, they never used it and I am finally remembering to scribe it here.))

/e sets herself at the piano with a grin and a flip of her ears, her paws land on the keys then her rich contralto sings out

Chilly Noehaire was a pianos players downs from Halas ways
He useds to plays ins the bars, he coulds sounds like the stars
The ladies would pays and pays

/e tips her head, her face sobering, ears lowering, her claws dancing across the keys

Thens ones night he dids winds up playin' in Freeports towns
ands nobody knews, leasts Chilly Noehaire thats these were his finals sounds.

/e tail curls around her as she plays, her voice weaving into the notes from the piano

'Cause he mets up withs Meritta, a Feir'Dal ins froms Qeynos
Halfs womans, halfs childs, she droves him halfs wilds
He loveds thats lady the mosts

/e closes her eyes as she sings, muzzle turning a bit towards her shoulder, her claws flashing on the ivories

'Tils one nights he dids finds hers in the arms of Swashy Dans
Sos he pulleds a blades, tooks poor Danny's lifes
And thens he turneds his own colds hands.

/e ears pin back as she belts out the song, eyes scanning the crowd

And it's justs a D'Leres crimes of passions
Messy and olds fashioneds
Yis, that's whats the newsheets dids say

/e shakes her head as she plays, her voice lowering again, the notes flowing from the piano

It's justs a D'Leres crimes of passions
Whisky splashings, knives a slashins'
Buts that's whats the people likes to read abouts
Ups in Antonicas, ups in Antonicas.

/e sighs softly, ears lifting a bit, the music takes on a somber feel

Wells, theys never founds Meritta, some 'Tonga says she gots ills
And Chilly Noehaire hads nos one to claims hims, he was burieds in olds Turmoils

/e shrugs turning back to look at the keys as she plays, her claws stroking the keys

And nos one talks abouts 'em nos mores, it happeneds justs a weeks ago
Buts people gets bys and people theys sighs
Ins the backstreets theys come and theys go.

/e turns back to her listeners, voice lifting as she sings out, her ears half back

And it's justs a D'Leres crimes of passions
Messy and olds fashioneds
Yis, that's whats the newsheets dids say

/e shakes her head again, lowering her voice letting the pianos notes carry her words

It's justs a D'Leres crimes of passions
Whisky splashings, knives a slashins'
Buts that's whats the people likes to read abouts
Ups in Antonicas, ups in Antonicas.

/e runs her paws over the keys a moment more then drops them in her lap, looking about

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 07/20/14

((Another childhood favorite tale, this version is:
STONE SOUP - An Old Tale Retold - Text by Marcia Brown
"Stone Soup" by Marcia Brown, Atheneum Books, (c) 1975 by Marcia Brown

This will undergo some editing to fit Norrath, Slipps' accent and the performance parts, but the tale Slipps eventually tells will be based on Brown's version.

This is the work in progress.
))


Threes soldiers trudgeds downs a roads fars aways.
Theys was ons ways homes froms a wars.
Besides beings tireds, theys was hungrys. Theys nots eatens fors twos days.

"Hows I woulds likes a goods dinners tonights,” saids the firsts.
“Ands a beds tos sleeps ins,” saids the seconds.
“Buts alls thats is impossibles,” saids the thirds. “Wes musts marchs ons.”
Ons theys marcheds. Suddenlys, aheads ofs thems theys saws a villages.

“Maybes we’lls finds a meals theres,” saids the firsts.
“Ands a lofts tos sleeps ins,” saids the seconds.
“Nos harms ins askings,” saids the thirds.

Nows these peasants feareds strangers. Whens theys saws threes soldiers comings, theys talkeds amongs themselves.
“Heres comes threes soldiers. Soldiers ares always hungrys, buts wes nots haves enoughs fors us.”
Sos theys hurrieds tos hides theirs foods.

Theys pusheds the sackss ofs barleys unders the hays ins the lofts.
Theys lowereds buckets ofs milks downs the wells.
Theys spreads olds quilts overs the carrots bins.
Theys hids the cabbages ands potatoes unders the beds.
Theys hung the meats ins the cellars.
Theys hids alls theys hads tos eats. Thens theys waiteds.

The soldiers stoppeds firsts ats the house ofs Pauls ands Francoise.
“Goods evenings” theys saids. “Coulds yous spares a bits ofs foods fors threes hungrys soldiers?”
“Wes nots haves foods fors ourselves fors threes days,” saids Pauls. Francoise mades a sads face. “Its was a bads harvests.”

Thens the soldiers wents tos the house ofs Alberts ands Louise.
“Coulds yous spares a bits ofs foods? Does yous haves a corners wheres wes coulds sleeps tonights?”
“Ohs nos,” saids Alberts. “Wes gaves alls wes coulds spares tos soldierss whos cames befores yous.”
“Ours beds ares fulls,” saids Louise.

Ats Vincents ands Marie’s the answers was the sames.
Its hads beens a poors harvests, alls the grains musts bes kepts fors seeds.

So it went all through the village. Not a peasant had any food to give away.
They all had good reasons.
One family had use the grain for feed.
Another had an old sick father to care for.
All had too many mouths to fill.

The villagers stood in the street and sighed. The looked as hungry as they could.
The three soldiers talked together.
Then the first soldier called out, “Good people!” The peasants drew near.

“We are three hungry soldiers in a strange land.
We have asked you for food and you have no food.
Well then, we’ll have to make stone soup.”
The peasants stared.
Stone soup? That would be something to know about.

“First, we’ll need a large iron pot,” the soldiers said.
The peasants brought the largest pot they could find. How else to cook enough?
“That's none too large,” said the soldiers.
“But it will do. And now, water to fill it and a fire to heat it.”
It took many buckets of water to fill the pot.
A fire was built on the village square and the pot was set to boil.

“And now, if you please, three round, smooth stones.”
Those were easy enough to find.
The peasants’ eyes grew round as they watched the soldiers drop the stones into the pot.
“Any soup needs salt and pepper,” said the soldiers, as they began to stir.
Children ran to fetch salt and pepper.

“Stones like these generally make good soup. But oh, if there were carrots, it would be much better.”
“Why, I think I have a carrot or two,” said Francoise, and off she ran.
She came back with her apron fill of carrots from the bin beneath the red quilt.

“A good stone soup should have cabbage,” said the soldiers as they sliced the carrots into the pot.
“But no use asking for what you don't have.”
“I think I could find a cabbage somewhere,” said Marie and she hurried home.
Back she came with three cabbages from the cupboard under the bed.

“If we only had a bit of beef and a few potatoes, this soup would be good enough for a rich man's table”
The peasants thought that over.
They remembered their potatoes and the sides of beef hanging in the cellars. They ran to fetch them.
A rich man's soup – and all from a few stones. It seemed like magic!

“Ah,” sighed the soldiers as they stirred in the beef and potatoes,
“if we only had a little barley and a cup of milk! This would would be fit for the king himself.
Indeed he asked for just such a soup when last he dined with us.”
The peasants looked at each other. The soldiers had entertained the king! Well!
“But – no use asking for what you don’t have,” the soldiers signed.

The peasants brought their barley from the lofts, they brought their milk from the wells.
The soldiers stirred the barley and milk into the steaming broth while the peasants stared.
At last the soup was ready.

“All of you shall taste,” the soldiers said. “But first a table must be set.”
Great tables were placed in the square. And all around were lighted torches.
Such a soup! How good it smelled! Truly fit for a king.
But then the peasants asked themselves,
“Would not such a soup require bread – and a roast – and cider?”
Soon a banquet was spread and everyone sat down to eat.

Never had there been such a feast.
Never had the peasants tasted such soup.
And fancy, made from stones!
They ate and drank and ate and drank. And after that they danced.
They danced and sang far into the night.

At last they were tired. Then the three soldiers asked,
“Is there not a loft where we could sleep?”
“Let three such wise and splendid gentlemen sleep in a loft? Indeed!
They must have the best beds in the village.”

So the first soldier slept in the priest’s house.
The second soldier slept in the baker’s house.
And the third soldier slept in the mayor’s house.

In the morning, the whole village gathered in the square to give them a send-off.
“Many thanks for what you have taught us,” the peasants said to the soldiers.
“We shall never go hungry, now that we know how to make soup from stones.”
“Oh, it’s all in knowing how,” said the soldiers, and off they went down the road.
Last edited by Slipps on 04/12/15, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 01/08/15

Another one to work on - this is based on the dry riverbed in the Steppes:

Crataegus wrote:
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
where water used to flow
undead rose from below
smite them with blades free
those hollow eyes that see
not give in to their cry
for they did not die
with honor or just
so slay them all you must
those dead in river old
their tale never told
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 02/01/15

((My daughter has Qeu Sera Sera tattooed down one arm...))

/e steps up carrying a battered, but well loved and carefully tuned lute. She smiles and begins to play a gently sweet melody with a hint of question in the notes

Whens I's was justs a tinys pups
I's asks mys mommas, whats wills I's bes?
Wills mys tails bes longs, wills furs bes softs?
Here's whats shes saids tos mes.

/e smiles, ears cupping forward as her rich contralto weaves through them

Ques Seras, Seras,
Whatsevers wills bes, wills bes
Thes future's nots ours, tos sees
Ques Seras, Seras
Whats wills bes, wills bes.

/e sways her hips a bit as she sings, turning to look around

Whens I's was youngs, I's founds mys loves
I's askeds mys dears mates whats lies aheads
Wills wes bes happys, days afters days?
Here's whats mys wise mates saids.

/e lifts her muzzle, closing her eyes as she dances the song through the music of the lute

Ques Seras, Seras,
Whatevers wills bes, wills bes
Thes future's nots ours, tos sees
Ques Seras, Seras
Whats wills bes, wills bes.

/e grins, her eyes bright and lively as she tips her head, ears flipping back and forth

Nows I's haves somes pups ofs mys owns
Theys asks mes ins turns, whats wills I's bes?
Wills I's be's prettys, wills I's bes strongs?
I's tells thems tenderlys.

/e softens her voice as she stills, the melody still sweet, but now a bit haunting

Ques Seras, Seras,
Whatevers wills bes, wills bes
Thes future's nots ours, tos sees
Ques Seras, Seras
Whats wills bes, wills bes.

/e lowers her lute and curtseys, even as the final notes still swirl around her

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Re: Slipps' song book

Post by Inqe » 04/16/16

((Lyyre's version of Taps, for when she runs the Bardic))


/e carries no instrument, her eyes seem sad, but proud too as she lifts her chin, eyes closing, her voice gently rises as she sings

Fading light dims the sight
as stars gem the sky, gleaming bright
from afar drawing nigh,
falls the night.

/e weaves the words of the song through the haunting melody as it drifts past

Day is done, gone the sun
from the lakes, from the hills, from the skies
all is well, safely rest
gently sighs

/e hands have lifted to lay crossed over her heart, her eyes are half closed as she sings

Thanks and praise for our days
'neath the sun, 'neath the stars, 'neath the sky
as we go, this we know,
peace is nigh.

/e voice remains gentle, sweet, as she sings the lullaby, her words in slow dance with the notes of the music

Then goodnight, peaceful night;
till the light of the dawn shineth bright.
hope is near, do not fear,
friends, goodnight.

/e lets the music tremble on her voice a bare moment as she gracefully sinks to a deep curtsey, chin lowered turning towards her left shoulder


((There are many different adaptations of the lyrics to Taps, this is simply mine, with few alterations, merging the original with the those of Horace Lorenzo Trim. The music, deceptively simple and profoundly haunting, is itself an adaptation of an earlier tune to fit a bugle, a common brass carried during the American Civil War. Most often associated with, and heard at, funerals for those of the military, it remains still the end of day lullaby for US Installations.))

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 12/03/16

((The following is a gift song for the wedding of Snowene & Murrkul. Yes, it has been a very long time since I've written any poetry.

/e had been humming, gently at first, then she let it swell and bloom into a gentle melody that carried her rich contralto
Mys lifes was a mysterys
tos mes
fors so longs
evens whens I knews thes truths
woulds I's
belongs?

/e music is more than her voice, though she carries no instrument, her paws move as if she directs each note
Mys lifes was curious
as thus
fors so longs
evens wheres I founds mys paths
coulds I's
belongs?

/e keeps the tune gathered, restrained, though it starts to slip free, slowly brightening
I hads fallens ins despairs
nos airs
fors so longs
evens once I drews breaths
shoulds I's
belongs?

/e turns as she looks over the audience, the melody becoming more determined, yet freer as she sings
I hads tos finds a news lifes
less strifes
fors so longs
evens thoughs I becames frees
dids I's
belongs?

/e voice pulls the notes back, then they swirl around the listeners, hopeful, waiting somehow
Whens I pauseds tos looks backs
so blacks
fors so longs
yous calleds tos mes my names
wills I's
belongs?

/e smiles as lets the melody free to swoop to upwards with joy, before it settles to wrap around the singer
Whens I turneds ands founds hopes
a ropes
fors so longs
yous gathereds mes so close
nows I's
belongs.

/e gathers the music back to herself, she is humming by the time she curtsies

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 01/23/17

((Betrayal is not about Slipps & Shink, or even Slipps at all.

/e wears a slung drum made for her with two sounders and a tambor, she draws from it the sense of running, brush snapping. Her contralto is wispy.

Ins thes skys a singles stars gleameds
throughs thes clouds overheads.
Ins thes nights a distants howls rose
throughs thes woods arounds.

/e drum mutters under her claws as they dance across hide and wood both. Her voice deepens for a breath, then two

I turneds ands lookeds behinds
as thes torches grews,
befores thems alls a harshs voice,
ands I thoughts I once trusteds yous.

/e pulls disbelief and despair from the drum and braids them with her song, her ears flattening

Ins mys hands a bloodeds blades tears
throughs thes lies yous tolds.
Ins mys hearts a hards truths settles
throughs a fears colds.

/e lets her fingers patter, racing, fleeing, on the drum. Her voice follows, but she never lets the notes wail

I rans withs whats was givens,
yours hands tos mines,
trustings thes safetys once promiseds,
ands a loves once blinds.

/e slows the drum beat to the measure of blood dripping. Her voice also slows, darkens, the music curling back onto itself

Ins a rooms a silkens dress staineds
throughs thes confuseds crys.
Ins a moments deaths takes holds
throughs thes wounds thrusts.

/e lets the blood drip through a tapping on the drum, footsteps are added, but no longer running. The contralto deepens, accuses

I knows nows thats I was useds,
onlys a steppings stones,
I knows nows false yours words,
thes truths dies alones.

/e slows the tapping of steps and blood both, slower, slower, as she sings, until they stumble and stop. The wispiness is back in her voice, the song barely breathed

Ins the darks a steps falters sloweds
throughs thes paths overgrowns.
Ins thes mornings mys bodys lies stills
throughs thes mists obscureds.

/e allows one claw to shudder lightly across the hide of the drum as the song fades away

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 12/13/17

((Rewrite of O Christmas Tree.


O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees!
Hows ares thys leaves so verdants?
O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees,
Whys ares thys leaves so verdants?

Cans understands ins summertimes,
Buts nots ins winters pasts thys primes.
O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees,
Hows ares thys leaves sos verdants?

O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees,
Whats pleasures doths thous brings mes
O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees,
Muchs needles doths drops ons mes!

Fors everys years thes Frostfells trees,
Brings tos us alls boths joys ands glees.
O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees,
Muchs works doths thous brings mes!

O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees,
Thys candles shines outs brightlys!
O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees,
Whys candles ons branches drilys?

Eachs boughs doths holds its tinys lights,
Thats makes eachs baubles sparkles brights.
O Frostfells trees, O Frostfells trees,
Nots catches fires nightlys!

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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 12/13/17

((Based off of: Arizona Snowman ©2007 Maureen Conlin

I's a Deserts ofs Ros snowmans mades ofs sages ands brush!
Ands I likes tos rolls arounds ins a clouds ofs dusts.
Thes suns is always shinings, ands thes weathers heres is greats!
Snowmans ins thes deserts knows it's times tos celebrates!

Yippees Yi Ayes!
Yippees Yi O's!
Yippees Yi Ayes!
Yippees Hos Hos Hos!
Merrys Frostfells tos yous ands aways wes goes!

I's a Deserts ofs Ros snowmans mades ofs sages ands brush!
Ands I likes tos rolls arounds ins a clouds ofs dusts.
Thes suns is always shinings, ands thes weathers heres is greats!
Snowmans ins thes deserts knows it's times tos celebrates!

Yippees Yi Ayes!
Yippees Yi O's!
Yippees Yi Ayes!
Yippees Hos Hos Hos!
Merrys Frostfells tos yous ands aways wes goes!

Yippees Yi Ayes!
Yippees Yi O's!
Yippees Yi Ayes!
Yippees Hos Hos Hos!
Merrys Frostfells tos yous ands aways wes goes!

HOS! HOS! HOS!

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Slipps
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Re: Slipps' Song Book

Post by Slipps » 12/13/17

((Based off of First Snowfall ©2007 Maureen Conlin. All I did here was add Slipps' lisp, though I considered changing some of the words to more fit her speech pattern.

Snowflakes fallings, dancings arounds,
Fallings softlys towards thes grounds.
Glistenings crystals whirlings arounds,
Snowflakess ares jewels withs earths as theirs crowns.

Winter's colds blows icys snows,
Glistenings jewels dance tos ands fros.
Dancings ands swirlings arounds ands arounds,
Sparklings jewels floats towards thes grounds.

Fluffys clouds highs ups ins thes skys.
Six points sparkles, shimmerings bys.
Softlys quietlys driftings arounds,
Dancings snowflakes rests ons thes grounds.

Dancings, swirlings, spinnings arounds,
Sparklings jewels withs earths as theirs crowns
Spinnings ands whirlings ands twirlings arounds,
Dancings snowflakes theys rests ons thes grounds!

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