A hobbit drinking song based on "Old Mad Baggins'" disappearance from his 111th birthday.
The moonlight shone on his buttons brass
As he stood 'neath the Party Tree.
The Bolgers, Boffins, and Brandybucks,
Grubbs and Bracegirdles, Chubbs and Tooks
Looked up expectantly.
'Eleventy-one years is far too short
To live among Hobbits so fine.
I asked you to this feast today
To hear just what I have to say;
You will three purposes find.'
He spoke of birthdays, barrels and trolls,
Eagles and flies that bite.
And then his eyes, oh they did shine
And his hands, they reached behind,
And then he said, 'Good-night.'
With a boom and a blast and a rain of fire
He vanished into thin air.
Not quite knowing what to think,
His guests all called for another drink
And he slipped away from there.
So Mother Tooks, you watch your sons,
For jaunts won't turn out well;
Just warm your feet by your comfy fire,
And you all stay safe in the Shire,
'Lest you fall to that Wizard's spell.