The Ring of Hope

When I was young, I'd sit around Bag End with Bilbo.
Singing songs and tales about the Elves of Old.
While we smoked our Southern Star.
A leaf of golden par
That transformed the hobbits' life forever more.

Remember Gandalf was exceptional among men.
He mastered the Art, blew smoke-rings and dragons.
But if only he had known
That Bilbo's ring was the one,
He'd never let it corrupt my master's soul.

Let the West wind blow
My ring of smoke
Over through Mordor
The One Ring of hope.

Now the kids all sit around my Bag End home.
And I tell stories to them, though not of old.
Well the pipe-weed is still the same.
But my memories are out of frame.
Transformed by my love of Master Frodo.

Let the West wind blow
My ring of smoke
Over through Mordor
The One Ring of hope.

Now the ring is gone and my master's sailed to his new home.
And I have no pipe with me for one last smoke.
But I can see the Southern Star
Please take me to where you are.
Before the sadness inside floats away with my smoke.

Let the West wind blow
My ring of smoke
Over through Mordor
The One Ring of hope.