Gimli’s Song (To the tune of “Colors of the Wind”)

I look like an ignorant savage,
But I’ve been a lot of places, and I know that’s not myself.
And I’m sure you would agree,
If you’d seen a walking tree,
Or a dancing, prancing, nancing little elf.

I think the only soldiers who are fighters,
Are the soldiers who are short and fat like me,
But I’d never try competing with a Ranger,
Cause a Ranger kills way more than forty three.

I think I own whatever land I land on,
Mid-Earth is just a dead thing I can claim.
Who cares about those silly trees and creatures?
Only rocks have a spirit or a name.

Have you ever heard and Orc cry,
As you run him through?
And made a stinky bathrobe from his skin?
Do you live beneath a great big scary mountain?
Have you never fought a battle you can’t win?

The Uruk-Hai and Orc are awfully nasty,
The elf prince and the hobbits are just weird,
And one thing that I think you ought to notice:
Not a single one I mentioned has a beard.

Come chop down all the mallorns of the forest,
Come dig up all the mithril of the earth!
Come roll in all the riches all around you,
And roar gladly when you find out what they’re worth.

Have you ever heard an Orc cry,
As you run him through?
And made a stinky bathrobe from his skin?
Do you live beneath a great big scary mountain?
Have you never fought a battle you can’t win?

How big can that Oliphaunt grow?
What! He shot it down, so I’ll never know!
But I still can hear the Orcs cry,
As I run them through,
And make some stinky bathrobes from their skins.
I can fight beneath a great big scary mountain.
Or just anywhere, because I always win.

How big can that Oliphaunt grow?
What! He shot it down, so I’ll never know!
But I still can hear the Orcs cry,
As I run them through,
And make some stinky bathrobes from their skins.
I can fight beneath a great big scary mountain.
Or just anywhere, because I always win.