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lyrics

Words seem to scurry, like little white mice,
Bringing lyrical tidbits that lure and entice
They hum in the morning and sing in the walls
As the dusk like a curtain at evening falls

Here little mouse, I will do you no harm,
Come sit on my hand and come run up my arm
You needn't be frightened, for music transcends
Sing to me, song-mouse and let us be friends.

I pluck and I hum and I pause and resume,
Breathing possible notes, like a waft of perfume,
Spinning from nothing a musical strand
Leashing the song-mice that come to my hand.

Here little mouse, I will do you no harm,
Come sit on my hand and come run up my arm
You needn't be frightened, for music transcends
Sing to me, song-mouse and let us be friends.

One little song-mouse can fill out a line
And one more can make melodies dance and entwine
Three can breathe harmony into a tune
Four can pull epics or sing down the moon.

Here little mouse, I will do you no harm,
Come sit on my hand and come run up my arm
You needn't be frightened, for music transcends
Sing to me, song-mouse and let us be friends.

credits

from 2024 FAWM Songs, Rough Cuts, released February 2, 2024

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Cat Faber Tennessee

I write music about science fiction and fantasy subjects, commonly referred to as "filk."

I write much faster than I can record. Recent songs may be found at my website--the URL is given below.

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