Mousey the Minstrel was renown
For his ‘talent’ in his singing
His tone deafness, to him, unknown
Villagers’ ears would be ringing!
For those who heard his awful voice
Would howl in pain and hold their ears
“Give us silence and we’ll rejoice!
We’ve tolerated him for years!”
One night when Mousey was in bed
The townsfolk made an evil plot
“We’ll cut away those strings instead,
Then all his songs can be forgot!”
The folks crept up to his small house
With a ladder to the first floor
“We will creep in through like a mouse
And his songs will be nevermore!”
They approached his bed, scissors ready
To cut the strings of his dear lute,
Holding their weapon a-steady
When one man tripped! SMASH! “Shh!! Be mute!”
“Hey! Who goes there?” the dwarf cried out
Poor Mousey’s heart was now racing
“How did all of this come about?”
Standing now, to the group facing.
“We wish you stop and hear us speak:
You are tone deaf, silly Minstrel!
You do not hum, you rather squeak,
You do not sing, you simply yell!”
Mousey replied, boastful and proud
“I am a dwarf of Khazad Dum,
Yes dwarves will shout, I am allowed!
Now leave me be or I’ll kick your bum!”