Zander's Little Filkbook

One poor filker tries desp'rately to organize
        his chaotic life,
Saying to his wife,
        "I can do things one by-y one."
Mutters to himself, putting music on the shelf
        alphabetic'lly,
Getting down to Zee*,
        "Well, at least that's done."

But as he settles into a chair
A noise comes from behind:
BANG, BANG, Zander's little filkbook
Came down on his head,
BANG, BANG, Zander's little filkbook
Had him seeing red.

"Too bad," wifey said, bandaging his bleeding head
        (sympathetic smile),
"Leave it for a while,
        you have taxes to-oo-oo do."
He sits down alone, calls his broker on the phone,
        gets his papers straight,
Works till very late,
        and at last he's thro-ou-ough.

But as he's getting ready for bed
A noise comes from behind:
BANG, BANG, Zander's little filkbook
Came down on his head,
BANG, BANG, Zander's little filkbook
Had him seeing red.

Four days afterward, something awful has occurred:
        where is his guitar?
It cannot be far,
        it was here befo-o-o-ore.
Where can it have gone? He's preparing for a con
        and he must rehearse.
He begins to curse
        as he's getting so-o-o-ore.

And as he looks in back of the fridge
A noise comes from behind:
BANG, BANG, Zander's little filkbook
Came down on his head,
BANG, BANG, Zander's little filkbook
Had him seeing red.

Zander's little book!

*Lennon, McCartney, and Nyrond are all British, but I'm American, and "Z" is Zee to me.