Oh far in the South lived a Gutter-rat, fat
Hyrien be her name, or so was her claim
Not of the White City was she,
But of the capital of Lamedon, Calembel, seemingly
She needed coin, but unlike her mother, she wasn't willing to sacrifice her groin
From pouches they clattered, coins silver and battered
For when her dagger struck swift and true
It meant a sudden lack of wealth for you
A hidden, humungous heart, and a tiny chest
Aye, you heard me, the size wasn't too best!
Out of Gondor she went
In face of defeat, she would not retreat, and her back would not bend
Lady Flat-Chest became what I called her
But she knows it is all in jest and laughter
