Work Text:
His name is Merry, gentleman of Buckland in the Shire,
Or should I say a gentlehobbit? Anyway: a Squire.
His friends are off to war, but he is not to ride, how dire!
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe, gloom, doom and woe!
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe!
With this grim prospect he is miffed and sulks with all his might.
But Dernhelm offers him a lift, together they do ride
To fight those pesky orcs that gave poor Gondor such a fright.
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe, gloom, doom and woe!
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe!
At dawn they see the battlefield, it seems that they are late,
With orcs and trolls and mûmakil and nazgûl at the gate
It looks as if the goodies will surrender to their fate.
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe, gloom, doom and woe!
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe!
Brave Théoden attacks just as the cockerels awake.
His soldiers battle gallantly, he fells the Crimson Snake.
But Snowmane rolls right over him. He’s dead, for pity’s sake!
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe, gloom, doom and woe!
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe!
A Ringwraith on his filthy mount approaches now the king,
Invites the beast to snack on him, ‘tis not a pretty thing!
Just how long can that Frodo take to dump the flaming Ring?
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe, gloom, doom and woe!
O tidings of gloom and doom and woe!
Now hobbits, they are rather short, they’re hardly there at all,
But when it comes down to a fight it’s handy to be small.
So when one hacks your tendons up, you’re sure to roar and bawl.
O tidings of suffering and pain, watering eyes!
O tidings of suffering and pain!
The nazgûl hovers mightily among the blood and gore.
But Dernhelm takes his helmet off and lo! ‘twas drag she wore!
So she and Merry kill him off, cause that’s what friends are for.
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy!
O tidings of comfort and joy!