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Back to BIG litle Book of Songs


The words are worked under notes on a scale, also small feet patterns and wings are drawn in to indicates steps that should be taken and when a wing hum should be added.



Tis a horrible day when the Windlings can't play and the change we so love do we lack.

That the horrors of late would stop all the change, so said the man in the shack.



CHORUS:

So off do I fly with my T'skrang beside and a human and elf who are brave.

To prove that our worth is better then dirt, and whats in our hearts are not knave.



We rested the nights and walked through the days, and stop in a village so small

But what we did find, a village not mine, was not very splendid at all

They would not dance a jig and sing out a tune and seemed that their souls so unsound

Soon it would seem, a horror touched place is a space with their spirits all bound



CHORUS:

So off do I fly with my T'skrang beside and a human and elf who are brave.

To prove that our worth is better then dirt, and whats in our hearts is not knave.



To the kaer we do come and into the glum of what once held new life is now dead

But low and behold a brithan is found and has made this dark place it's bed.

Quiet as mice we we slip through the cracks and make not a sound no not one

and into to the dark we travel the path, deeper and deeper we are flung



CHORUS:

So off do I fly with my T'skrang beside and a human and elf who are brave.

To prove that our worth is better then dirt, and whats in our hearts is not knave.



Around and around, the corridors we walk to find the place on the map

To take from this place a single small ring, I hope his bones I not snap.

We come to the room marked with an “X” and make our way inside

Empty it seems but for the pedestal gleams and shove and push it will slide.



CHORUS:

So off do I fly with my T'skrang beside and a human and elf who are brave.

To prove that our worth is better then dirt, and whats in our hearts is not knave.



Down do I fly, my torch cradled in hand, and scout out the area round

But what do I hear, my companions above can not find the way to the ground

How silly it seems for they can't ride the winds, back up with my torch all a glow

We set our new sights through left and through right to seek a way down below



CHORUS:

So off do I fly with my T'skrang beside and a human and elf who are brave.

To prove that our worth is better then dirt, and whats in our hearts is not knave.



To the kitchen we come and braces we find, carved from table legs

and a noise we do hear, in the yonder to fear, is a man who is already dead

A battle ensues we most never lose, for this man he is playing for keeps

but low and behold victors all told for now this man ever sleeps



CHORUS:

So off do I fly with my T'skrang beside and a human and elf who are brave.

To prove that our worth is better then dirt, and whats in our hearts is not knave.



To the chamber it seems is trapped beyond means and carefully our group does prevail

The the end of our journey, the last door to open, the room is empty and stale

But a horror it seems has blocked off our means to gain the jewel in the ring

and had it been it, not us who had won. I would not be able to sing



CHORUS:

So off do I fly with my T'skrang beside and a human and elf who are brave.

To prove that our worth is better then dirt, and whats in our hearts is not knave.



Tis the end of my song, alive we did go, back to the village so sad

but what did we see a village alive and all who were in it so glad

They thanked us a bunch and send us off with some lunch and to the old man so bold

and what did he do but thank us all too and gave us big bags of gold!



CHORUS:

So off do I fly with my T'skrang beside and a human and elf who are brave.

To prove that our worth is better then dirt, and whats in our hearts is not knave.

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