Disclaimer: I don't own a house-elf.

Blinking them large eyes tearfuls,

She is! She is!

Moaning over her Crouchie Master,

She still! She still!

Drinking day after day after day,

Gobbles and obbles of the smelly stuff

They calls butterbeer.

She can't! She can't!

Hang on like a drunkie,

She is dying from sadness,

She is, she is.