Littlemanpoet (alias hobbit-bard or something like that) comes over the hill in a wagon chock full of lutes, lyres, drums, bagpipes, and amplifiers with four angrogynous elves with white painted faces and miruvor in dainty stem glassware in one hand, instruments in the other, trying to work the bugs out of the following noisy rendition:
This is the real Downs
It's not just fantasy
Sneak in a barrow
To escape from reality
Open your eyes
look to Ea and see
I'm just a poor poet
not some ol' goblin's slave
(Hey guys, that's a weak line, work on it.)
easy come easy go
will you let me go
bismillah no
wight will not let you go
let me go
bismillah no
wight will not let you go
let him go no no no no
mama mia mama mia mam mia
let me go!
Morgoth Bauglir has a Balrog
set aside for me, for me,
for meeeeeAaauuuAGHHHHHH!!!!!
bah bah da bah bahda bahm
bah bah da bah bahda bahm
(out comes the elvish sword...)
ohhhhh baby
can't do this to me baby
I'll slice you with this sword
condemn you to the void
and I'm just gonna get righeeet outta heah!!!
bah bah da bah bahda bahm
[ May 20, 2002: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]
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