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'Lord Elrond, tell us about hair!'
Elrond drones on and on about the last alliance, and starts to quote his own poetry (namely: "Ode to a Lump of Green Putty I found in my Armpit this Morning"), and Boromir prepares to gnaw his own arm off.
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But all the while I sit and think of times there were before
I listen for returning feet and voices at the door
Last edited by Oddwen; 11-12-2004 at 09:28 PM.
Reason: Prithee, what is this "grammar" that thou speakest so well of?
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