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Hello, Mr. Smeagol
Can I have your precious
Cause it's gold, gold gold
Round a hole, hole, hole
Elbereth, Githoniel
Sometimes you're not feeling well
With a gigantic flaming eye to blow your mi-ind
Hello Mr. Smeagol
Ran into some confusion
With A Ms. Galadriel-el-el
Dead Marshes, we're marching on
You think you're Sauron's Nazgul
Or an Easterling Oliphaunt
To blow your mind
[little piano riff]
Figure it out!
He's a good-time Stinker
He's got a little finger
In his mouth and so he bites
Figure it out!
He's a good-time Slinker
Too bad the lava bath was premature
She said, and smiled