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Music

Music


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SAURON: (to the music of Abba's Ring, Ring)
All alone in Barad-dur,
Am I evil? That's for sure!
But by myself I sit and wait and wonder, without you.
It's a dark and dreary night,
Seems like nothing's going right,
Won't you tell me, precious, how can I go on here without you?
Yes I'm down and feeling blue,
And I don't know what to do, so
Ring, Ring, Why don't you give me a call?
Ring, Ring, That'd be the sign of them all...

*shot of Nazgul go-go dancing behind Sauron*

--------

(To the tune of Shania Twain's "That Don't Impress Me Much")

I known some guys who thought they were pretty cute,
But you've got being girlie down to an art,
You think you're a model
You drive me up the wall,
You're a regular original, know it all!

Oooh, you think you're special,
Ooooh, you think you're something else.

Ok, so you're an Elven Prince?
That don't impress me much, oh oh oooh,
So ya, walk on snow
But have you, got the touch?
Na na don't me wrong, yeah I think you're all right
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night...

That don't impress me much!

Ooh ooh...
I never knew a guy who carried an frying pan in his pocket,
And a wok up his sleeve, "just in case"
And those half a dozen eggs in that cake oughta lock it,
Cos heaven forbid it should fall outa place!

Oooh, you think you're special,
Ooooh, you think you're something else.

Ok, so you're Frodo's slave?
That don't impress me much, oh oh oooh,
So ya know how to cook
But have you, got the touch?
Na na don't me wrong, yeah I think you're all right
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night...
That don't impress me much.



Or one of those guys who says he's heir to the throne,
And makes me swear my allegiance before you let me go home,
I can't belive you kiss your sword goodnight,
So come on baby tell me - you must be joking, right?

Oooh, you think you're special,
Ooooh, you think you're something else.

Ok, so you're Isildur's Heir?
That don't impress me much, oh oh oooh,
So ya, got the sword
But have you, got the touch?
Na na don't me wrong, yeah I think you're all right
But that won't keep me warm in the long, cold lonely night...

Yeah...

Ok, so you're bearing the Ring?
That don't impress me much, oh oh oooh,
So ya, got to carry this object of unspeakable evil and destruction to the very heart of Mordor and cast it into Mount Doom, whilst being chased by Nazgul, not being able to trust even your closest friends and constantly having to resist the urge to put it on?
.....But have you, got the touch?


---------------------



*opening music*

A little bit of Boromir in my life,
A little bit of Aragorn by my side,
A little bit of Pippin's what I need,
A little bit of Frodo's what I see,
A little bit of Samwise in the sun,
A little bit of Merry all night long,
A little bit of Legolas here I am,
A little bit of you makes you my man....
RoaR!

------

I suddenly had a vision of Gollum as Tom Jones.

And he sang this.

*music*

It's not unusual to smoke pipes with anyone,
It's not unusual to hunt orcs with anyone
But when I see you've stolen my precioussss little Ring,
It's not unusual, to see me cry...
LOST! MY PRECIOUSS IS LOSSSST!


To be sung to the tune of Glory Glory Hulleighluia (spelling?)

"It was mouldy down in Moria, the light was going dim,

Some plonker dropped a rock and now they're coming after him,

His sword is drawn, his face is set and looking rather grim,

Shame he's only two feet tall.

[Chorus]

Don't blame it on the goblins,

Don't blame it on the cave troll,

Don't blame it on the Balrog,

Blame it on the Hobbits!

They're small and they are hairy and they don't wear any shoes,

When they're not stoned on pipeweed then they're knocking back the booze,

You wouldn't like your mother to hear the kind of words they use,

But at least they're not all Sam (-wise Ganjee)!

[Chorus]

Down at the Prancing Pony there was laughter in the air,

The drink was flowing freely and no-one had a care,

Then some plonker fell off a table and vanished into air,

And happy hour ended there!

[Chorus]

So if you think you've seen one don't panic, you'll be fine,

Just pick up your Palantir and dial 'nine nine nine,'

The riders in black will soon attack, and when they catch the little swine

He ain't gonna sing no more!

[Chorus]

Don't blame it on the White Hand,

Don't blame it on the Dark Lord,

Don't even blame it on Tom Bombadil,

Blame it on the Hobbits!

(And Aragorn)"

 

 

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