Another Way Round

[HerenIstarion]

well thank you

here we go again:

Water, water stone and sand
Swell and stifle! Whistling rifle!
Darken the day for them to despair
Derry dol!

Sow and reap us, gather and heap us
After cheeks pale and their breaths rale
After horn shows and hide peels
Meat denses and blood heals
And fires leap
Over the earth!

And giants will live!
So dark the day for them to despair
Derry dol!
Dol derry dol!
Derry dol!

[The Saucepan Man]

... is of course ya hey!

It's the Goblin's song while setting fire to the trees in which Gandalf, Bilbo, Thorin and Co took had taken refuge:

Burn, burn tree and fern!
Shrivel and scorch! A fizzling torch
To light the night for our delight,
Ya hey!

Bake and toast ‘em, fry and roast ‘em!
Till beards blaze, and eyes glaze;
Till hair smells and skins crack,
Fat melts, and bones black
In cinders lie
Beneath the sky!

So dwarves shall die,
And light the night for our delight!
Ya hey!
Ya-harri-hey!
Ya hoy!

[HerenIstarion]

yes of course

[The Saucepan Man]

Ace.

Logic rotted my sprightly head
Which underground was lucky to remain;
But back I ambled, weak with feet of lead,
To cower from shadows darkening.
Avoiding tangled mountains o’er Goblin caves
He approached heavily with clumsy head,
But stayed to keep me company yet to remain
Oblivious to the uproarious peaks.

[HerenIstarion]

Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She tightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.

[The Saucepan Man]

Oui. D'accord. Allez, H-I.

[HerenIstarion]

next one, than:

The President over the oakery
The President of molten fat
The servant of wooden bakery
Have gone from where he sat

His shoes have been downtrodden
His pipes've been snapped in two
His shack with flood was sodden
His creed gone to the blue

The desert filled his tillages
The sand mounts o'er the moon
Privation seized his villages
His lead is kept by loon

The lakes are dried in sorrow
The rivers're bleak and wet
All glee have gone from morrow
He's gone from where he sat!