THE GOBLINS SINGING CAROLS AROUND A WELL- LIT TREE
O crispy tree, O crispy tree,
Burnt dwarves atop thy branches!
O crispy tree, O crispy tree!
Burnt dwarves atop thy branches!
It reeks of scorching wizard's beard,
But in the warmth we'll still find cheer.
O crispy tree, O crispy tree,
Burnt dwarves atop thy branches!
No use to chop to get our crop,
They're sure to drop before they pop!
O crispy tree, O crispy tree!
Burnt dwarves atop thy branches!
-AND LATER-
Gandalf roasting on an open fire,
A Dwarf beard singed beneath his nose.
Hobbit feet burning up in the pyre,
And Orcs await the afterglow -
Everybody knows -
That turkey tastes like Hobbit toes,
Or chicken fingers fired just right.
'Tater-tots and mushrooms I'm told
Are perfect sides for Baggins tonight.
__________________
And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony shoulders of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision.
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