lirik lagu the hobbitons - perry the winkle
the lonely troll he sat on a stone
and sang a mournful lay:
“oh why, oh why must i live on my own
in the hills of faraway?
my folk are gone beyond recall
and take no thought of me
alone i’m left, the last of all
from weathertop to the sea”
“i steal no gold, i drink no beer
i eat no kind of meat
but people slam their doors in fear
whenever they hear my feet
oh how i wish that they were neat
and my hands were not so rough!
yet my heart is soft, my smile is sweet
and my cooking . . . good enough”
“come, comе!” he thought, “this will not do!
i must go and find a friend
a~walking soft i’ll wander through
thе shire from end to end”
down he went, and he walked all night
with his feet in boots of fur
to delving he came in the morning light
when folk were just astir
he looked around, and who did he meet
but old mrs. bunce and all
with umbrella and basket walking the street
and he smiled and stopped to call
“good morning, ma’am! good day to you!
i hope i find you well”
but she dropped umbrella and basket too
and yelled a frightful yell
old pott the mayor was strolling near
when he heard that awful sound
he turned all purple and pink with fear
and dived down underground
the lonely troll was hurt and sad
“don’t go!” he gently said
but old mrs. bunce ran home like mad
and hid beneath her bed
the troll went on to the market~place
and peeped above the stalls
the sheep went wild when they saw his face
and the geese flew over the walls
old farmer hogg he spilled his ale
bill butcher threw a knife
and grip his dog, he turned his tail
and ran to save his life
the old troll sadly sat and wept
outside the lockhole’s gate
and perry~the~winkle up he crept
and patted him on the pate
“oh why do you weep, you great big lump?
you’re better outside than in!”
he gave the troll a friendly thump
and laughed to see him grin
“oh perry~the~winkle boy,” he cried
“come, you’re the lad for me!
now if you’re willing to take a ride
i’ll carry you home to tea”
he jumped on his back and held on tight
and “off you go!” said he
and the winkle had a feast that night
and sat on the old troll’s knee
there were pikelets, there was b~ttered toast
and jam, and cream, and cake
and the winkle strove to eat the most
though his b~ttons all should break
the kettle sang, the fire was hot
the pot was large and brown
and the winkle tried to drink the lot
in tea though he should drown
when full and tight were coat and skin
they rested without speech
till the old troll said, “i’ll now begin
the baker’s art to teach
the making of beautiful cramsome bread
of bannocks light and brown
and then you can sleep on a heather~bed
with pillows of owlet’s down”
“young winkle, where’ve you been?” they said
“i’ve been to a fulsome tea
and i feel so fat, for i have fed
on cramsome bread,” said he
“but where, my lad, in the shire was that?
or out in bree?” said they
but winkle he up and answered flat
“i ain’t a~going to say”
“but i know where,” said peeping jack
“i watched him ride away
he went upon the old troll’s back
to the hills of faraway”
then all the people went with a will
by pony, cart, or moke
until they came to a house in a hill
and saw a chimney smoke
they hammered upon the old troll’s door
“a beautiful cramsome cake
oh bake for us, please, or two, or more
oh bake!” they cried, “oh bake!”
“go home, go home!” the old troll said
“i never invited you
only on thursdays i bake my bread
and only for a few”
“go home! go home! there’s some mistake
my house is far too small
and i’ve no pikelets, cream, or cake
the winkle has eaten all!
you jack, and hogg, old bunce and pott
i wish no more to see
be off! be off now all the lot!
the winkle’s the boy for me!”
now perry~the~winkle grew so fat
through eating of cramsome bread
his weskit bust, and never a hat
would sit upon his head
for every thursday he went to tea
and sat on the kitchen floor
and smaller the old troll seemed to be
as he grew more and more
the winkle a baker great became
as still is said in song
from the sea to bree there went the fame
of his bread both short and long
but it weren’t so good as the cramsome bread
no b~tter so rich and free
as every thursday the old troll spread
for perry~the~winkle’s tea
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