We was tolds to write a ballad,
Sixteen strings of words,
Abouts anything, anything at all,
So we writes about little birds!
Birdsies, birdsies, so juicy sweet,
Heaven between our nine teeths!
Birdsies, we likes, we likes a lot,
Almost as much as fishie meat!
Hobbitses says they are revolting
(Nasty, mean, fat hobbitses),
But Precious and me’s response
Is a loud, indignant hiss.
Bird-free sky makes Sméagol mad;
Sméagol hatesss eating Hobbitses’ bread.
Oh, birdsies, birdsies, so juicy sweet;
Sméagol’s hungry for one of their heads!