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Fourteen-Twenty
by Old Took
The Prancing Pony's open door
Beckons me inside once more.
Barli's smiling face is there,
Showing me my favourite chair.
The chorus sounds, "Drink up, there's plenty!
The barrel's full of fourteen-twenty!"
Fourteen-twenty, always plenty-
The barrel's full of fourteen-twenty!
"What's your fancy? Take your seat!
There's food to eat and folk to meet."
There's laugh and cheer for everyone,
With lots of talk and rhyme and song.
There's pipes to puff and jars to swig-
The Shire folks start up a jig!
Fourteen-twenty, always plenty-
The barrel's full of fourteen-twenty!
The tavern's full of hobbits and
The larger folk and Elven band.
The clink of glass and shout of cheer
Dances merrily in the ear.
As the night progresses on,
I check the time, "But where's it gone?!"
Fourteen-twenty, always plenty-
The barrel's full of fourteen-twenty!
I'm so glad to have such friends,
Tt's such a shame the evening ends.
But as I wend my weary way
Back to my hole at end of day,
I smile and think of better things,
Like jars of mead and Balrog wings!
Fourteen-twenty, always plenty-
The barrel's full of fourteen-twenty!
