Lyrics
Blunt the knives, bend the forks
Smash the bottles and burn the corks
Chip the glasses and crack the plates-
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
Cut the cloth, tread on the fat
Leave the bones on the bathroom mat
Pour the milk on the pantry floor
Splash the wine on every door
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl
Pound them up with a thumping pole
When you've finished, if they are whole
Send them down the hall to roll!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
There's an inn, there's an inn
There's an merry old inn
Beneath an old gray hill
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill
Oh, the ostler has a tipsy cat
That plays the five string fiddle
And up and down he runs his bow
Now squeeking high, now purring low
Now sawing in the middle
So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle
A jig that would wake the dead
He squeeked and sawed and quickend the tune
While the Landlord shook the Man in the Moon
"It's after three!", he said
Smash the bottles and burn the corks
Chip the glasses and crack the plates-
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
Cut the cloth, tread on the fat
Leave the bones on the bathroom mat
Pour the milk on the pantry floor
Splash the wine on every door
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl
Pound them up with a thumping pole
When you've finished, if they are whole
Send them down the hall to roll!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
There's an inn, there's an inn
There's an merry old inn
Beneath an old gray hill
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill
Oh, the ostler has a tipsy cat
That plays the five string fiddle
And up and down he runs his bow
Now squeeking high, now purring low
Now sawing in the middle
So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle
A jig that would wake the dead
He squeeked and sawed and quickend the tune
While the Landlord shook the Man in the Moon
"It's after three!", he said