This song came up on Spotify and earwormed me instantly. It was brutal. I responded as I always do in such cases (the volume of work on this page being testament to how often this happens) and wrote a filk. As is usual lately, I picked the same old topic, though this time the depressing tone is imitated, since the little island I live on is sufficiently isolated from the big bad world that this one particular curse hasn’t been oppressing me all that much. Small blessings on a small island!

The song? Everything Is Free, a pretty but rather whiney song written about, of all things, the impossibility of making a living in the time of Napster. Young folks will want to google that on Bing.

August 2020

Everything is fucked now
That’s how it seems
Everything I meant to do
Gone to whispers and dreams
Someone had a bad cold
They spread it about
Now I’m sitting in my dressing gown
Wond’ring am I gonna drown?

I can get the dole now
Or try anyhow
Maybe get a picking job
If borders allow
Or I could sit and bake bread
Work on my chores
I never minded veging out
Until they made it law

‘Cause everything is fucked now
That’s how it seems
Everything I meant to do
Gone to whispers and dreams
Someone had a bad cold
They spread it about
Now I’m sitting in my dressing gown
Wond’ring am I gonna drown?

Every day I wake up
Couldn’t say why
But I don’t need a calendar
I watch the sky
And I can count the grey hairs
The birds in the trees
Yes, and all the dead and in decline
Every night on TV

‘Cause everything is fucked now
That’s how it ends
Everything is fading out
Turn the light off, my friends
Someone had a bad cold
They spread it about
When they find us in a million years
Will they care what happened here?