ARGH ARGH ARGH! :pounds forehead on keyboard:

Okay, it's like this. Every morning I wake up around six, stumble into the
shower, shave, dress, and fix my breakfast. This is done on autopilot and
takes me exactly an hour to do. During this time, my mind is more or less
free to roam where it will. It is known as the Terrible Hour. Why? Because
it is when every single DAMNED FILK I ever have written or thought about
writing comes into being. I think it's because I sing in the shower.

I should stop doing that.

Anyhow. It's where this filk came from. Do you KNOW how hard it is to find
things that rhyme with "Dragons" and "explode"?

I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry. Especially to Sting. He never did
anything to deserve this. Sorry, sorry, sorry...

Every Little Thing She Does Is Dragons
A Vimesian ode to Sybil Ramkin

Oh, I've tried before to tell her
Of the feeling that she'd have hair on her head
If she'd give up breeding dragons
But I can't find words
To explain what I've just said

Every little thing she does is Dragons
Everything she does tends to explode
Yes, I know my life before was tragic
Can't figure why I love her so

Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days in Ankh-Morpork
Don't like to muck out dragon pens
But it's always me that ends up with the fork

Every little thing she does is Dragons!
But somehow I still can't turn away
Yes I know my life before was tragic
But see I'm caught now in her sway

I resolved to keep away from the house upon the hill
And not go back for lunch or tea, which tastes like dragon swill
But there's something in the way she
Seems to love the buggers so
And I sort of feel she's tricked me
But I can't leave her alone.

Every little thing she does is Dragons
Everything she does tends to explode
Yes, I know my life before was tragic
Can't figure why I love her so...

(for the "eeyo oooh" chorus, substitute "Ankh-Morpork", it really works
rather well)