A song about the goings-on in the common room of the Prancing Pony, sung to the Celtic song "Paddy McCullough".
Pippin:
Mayor Will Whitfoot, that fine old hobbit,
Sat in his hole in Michel Delving;
And the roof just caved in around him,
Came out looking like a powdered dumpling.
Frodo:
Watch your tongue, Pip, for you are in Bree now:
Nice enough, but it's still outside the Shire.
And we aren't on a hobbit walking-party,
You know our quest is dire.
Pippin:
Bilbo Baggins turned eleventy-one,
But that was years ago;
He said, "Don't know half as well as I'd like,
But now it's time to go."
Frodo:
Watch your tongue, Pip, for you are in Bree now:
Nice enough, but it's still outside the Shire.
And we aren't on a hobbit walking-party,
You know our quest is dire.
Strider:brDrink and food and friends are nice, true,brBut Bree-land, it draws all types,brSo I would keep your little friend from talkingbrIf you'd survive the night.
Watch what he says, for you are in Bree now:brNice enough, but it's still outside the Shire.brAnd you aren't on a hobbit walking-party,brYou know your quest is dire.
Frodo:
The landlord keeps a dog who laughs hard,
And a cow to dance beneath the moon,
The man in the moon drunk off his wits, and
The fork fled with his spoon.
Strider:
Frodo, Watch what you do, for you're in Bree now.
Nice enough, but it's still outside the Shire.
And you aren't on a hobbit walking-party,
You know our quest is dire.
Narrator:
That queer sight, it won't be forgot soon,
Disappearing hobbit from the Shire;
Some left quick, the others called for Barly,
Told him what had transpired.
Frodo saw Strider's ire:
From the pan, into the fire.