In Lawndale town, where I was born, There dwelt a fair maid, mister, Made ev'ry youth cry out,"Yowsa!," And Daria was her sister. Twas in the merry month of May, And trees with blooms were brimmin', Sweet Trent Lane in a near coma lay, And Daria had a crush upon him. Slowly, slowly she got up, And blushing stood beside him, But the only words she could find to say, Were, "Trent Lane, I think you're dyin'" "Oh, yes, I''m sick and goin' slow, No more on earth to roam, I'll be the first fatality, From chronic fatigue syndrome." "Oh, Trent dear let me say this thing," La da di daa dum, "er," Di di di dum, la di da da dum, "Um... hope you soon feel better." "Yeah, cool..." da di, da da di dum, And then he said unto her, La da di di, dum di da da di, Da da da daaaaa, "Whatever..." Then blushing hard and starting up, And down the stairs went flying, So sad she couldn't express her love, While Trent Lane lay there dying. She heard the church bells cry his name, And she was feeling real low, Poor Jesse, sobbing, said to her, That now he must sing solo. Then she looked east, and she looked west, She saw his corpse a coming, "Lay down, lay down, the corpse," she cried, "That I might gaze upon him." She gazed upon his face with love, Her eyes with tears were red, She turned and asked of his sister Jane, "How can we tell he's dead?" Then Jane looked puzzled, scratched her brow, And shook her head real slow, And with a sigh, she then replied, "Geez, Daria, I dunno..." "Oh Mother go and make my bed, Make it long and narrow, Sweet Trent he died of apathy, Now I shall die tomorrow." "Father, go and buy my grave, A funeral start planning, Sweet Trent Lane died of lethargy, And I shall die a-mourning." Trent Lane died on Saturday night, And Daria soon after, But don't weep, they're not truly dead, For they are cartoon characters. They buried Daria in the old churchyard, And Trent Lane lies beside her, And out of his grave grew a red, red rose, And out of hers, some flowers. The grew and grew in the old churchyard, A-swaying in the wind, Til the three J's came and plucked them all, For a bouquet for Quinn.
This little bit of doggeral grew from my love of the show "Daria", my passion for folk music, and my anti-shipper mentality. It is what is known in science fiction/fantasy circles as a "filk song". For those of you who don't know, a filk song is a folksong-like parody, usually based on a work of popular fiction. One of the most famous of these is a parody on "Give Me That Ol' Time Religion," one verse of which goes thusly:
Oh, we'll worship like the druids
Who drank fermented fluids,
And danced naked in the woo-ids,
That's good enough for me.
Francis James Child was a philologist in the latter part of what will soon be the next-to-the-last century, and collected and published many of the old ballads from Scotland and England in a 10 volume collection. These ballads thereafter came to be known as the "Child Ballads", of which the most famous is, arguably, "Barbara Allen"(Child #84). This particular song exists in literally hundreds of variations from all over the English-speaking world. There even exists a recording from Smithsonian/Folkways that consists of nothing but variations of "Barbara Allen".
I have attempted to strike a balance between the archaic and modern language, preserving some of the old phrases common to ballads (the red, red rose; dying of unrequited love), while introducing modern concepts (apathy, chronic fatigue syndrome, etc.), creating a melange that I'm sure has ole Frankie C. spinning merrily in his grave.
And in case anyone is worried, after the video shoot, our heroes were dug up and Trent awakened. Daria suffered a slight case of temporary claustrophobia as video shoots last a long while (what with the three J's being just totally unable to hit their marks in the last scene, causing retake after retake). But Daria is now well on the road to recovery, and her mother says they may get a pretty sum out of the producers.
Daria and all characters therefrom are copyright and trademark of MTV and Viacom. "Barbara Allen" is, of course, public domain. Any part not owned by MTV and Viacom, or in the public domain, is copyright of William G. Payne, Jr.
September 10, 1999