Lina

His name is Ruff, part 1

Once there was a hero
In them fields of green
He was ever smart and clever
No sharper we have seen
He is old and grey now
His days of prime are gone
But the locals won’t forget him
And all he has done

He is old and scruffy
But he’s tough enough
He was born in Brockenborings
His name is Ruff

A jarful or two

When the nighttime approaches I go to the larder
Ter find me some food that will help me to sleep
Me dog sits behind me as I do the cooking
What falls on the floor surely is hers ter keep
How grand is a pie with a savoury filling
How fine is a pot full of herby lamb stew
But sweeter and finer and dear ter me belly
Are honey oat biscuits, a jarful or two

Songs and Dances From Our Past

I wander all across the Shire
Looking for the tunes of old
The songs and dances from our past
I write down all the ones I’m told

All of our hamlets have their own songs
With local stories, tales and names
But as you travel through our lands
You find the music is the same