My master’s got a gold Ring
Oh Woe! He’s got a nasty Ring of gold
Gonna get us both kilt before we’re old!
I know what my Gaffer would say
Oh, yes… I can tell you what my ol’ Gaffer’d say
He’d take a ‘tater over a gold Ring any day!
*A small hobbit climbs up on the
nearby table and sings*
A finger's missin' from my hand,
Don't got ten fingers, done lost one from my hand,
Can't play piano, no, no spinet nor baby grand.
I was a strugglin' by that Crack,
Oh, a mighty strugglin', thinkin' I'm never goin' back,
And then that creature made my hand a snack!
I got the nine-finger blues,
I don't got ten fingers no more blues,
No more Ring, no more finger, paid my dues!
Twisted branches grope and sway,
Twiggy boughs are creeping fingers,
Scheming how to block your way
by shifting paths to your dismay.
- Daisy Gold