The drunken Hobbits on the table dance and sing a merry song
To serenade the local Shire-folk who’re in the Green Dragon

Another pleasant Shire Sunday
Pipe-weed burnin’ everywhere
Rows of houses that are underground
And the Hobbits don’t have a care

Mister Gamgee pleased as can be because his roses are in bloom
And Mister Took, just take a look, he’s dancing all around the room

Another pleasant Shire Sunday
Hobbiton to the Buckland
Eat six meals a day with appetites
Even the wise can’t understand

Little creatures come and go
On padded, furry toes
They can be hard for you to see
Frodo’s thoughts seem to stray
To places far away
Will he be changing scenery?

Ta-ta-ta-tyaa Ta-ta-ta-tyaa Ta-ta-ta-ta-a-a-a-ah
Ta-ta-ta-tyaa Ta-ta-ta-tyaa Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta

Another pleasant Shire Sunday
Pipe-weed burnin’ everywhere
Another pleasant Shire Sunday
Hobbiton to the Buckland

Another pleasant Shire Sunday (Another pleasant Shire Sunday)
Another pleasant Shire Sunday (Another pleasant Shire Sunday)
Another pleasant Shire Sunday