I'm A Civilized, Cultured Hobbit,
Though I Live Inside A Hole,
Its clean and calm and cozy,
Neither Sheltering A Mutt Nor A Mole.
I'm A Hobbit Of Hobbiton,
A Took, Not Merely The Baggins Breed,
Yet My Feet Have An Itch,
I Rub Them Clean , Again And Again Indeed.
The Wizard Says They Are Too Clean,
They Shine Like Elf-made Starlight,
It's Time They Found Some Dirt Again,
An Adventure Again, And I Just Might.
All I Have Now, Is A Chest Of Gold,
Comfort And A Lot Of Daily Chores,
And This Is What Has Caused The Itch,
For Relief, I Journey To The Undying Shores.
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