I’m not a huge Tolkein fan, but felt moved to write my own version after seeing the latest film. So with my toungue firmly in my cheek here is….Forgon the Fjork, audio and text…
This is the tale of Forgon the Fjork
Who lived in a place of which we can’t talk
Though many had tried to summon the secret
Its was widely agreed that no one could speak it.
The main issue being they now had forgot
The name, the location, yes frankly the lot.
Forgon had learnt it by rote from his Dad
A Fjork who was ugly, and vicious and bad
Forgon the son of the Forgin the First
Grandson of Forrin (Forrin the Worst)
Had learned it at Forgin’s knobbly great knee
When just a lad of perhaps two or three
And when he could safely be heard to repeat it
All sign of the name for the town was deleted
Forgon was tasked to keep the location
Secret and safe for the future Fjork nation.
But he went on a gap year as a young fjork do
To the land of Delusion for a year maybe two
Then wandered the valleys and hills of the Nether
Where his home town he lost or forgot it forever.
Maybe his brain had become slightly addled
And tired of the task with which he was saddled,
In time he would face the wrath of his Lord
Or end up fair stuck on the end of his sword.
So He got up a band of odd little men
Stout bold and brave with marks out of ten
They matched him only in shortness of stature
Undaunted they knew the name they’d re-capture
Starshine and Driver and Boris the Gruff
Samson the Clever who knew lots of stuff.
Remarkably good at cunning linguistics
Tallish and handy with high-up logistics,
He’d sourced secret maps for the band on a loan
To mysteriously guide them the shortest way home.
Samson deciphered mysterious runes
That pointed the way to the south of the dunes.
Their journey was hard and they had to play tough
With trees that could walk and rocks playing rough.
Monsterish folk who spoke proper funny
with big bommyknockers that blocked out the sunny
“Morraaa kaamooor landudno demorch”
Said one with big eyes that shone like a torch.
Battling all odds they reached a tall tower
With a pretty tall woman with pretty neat power
“you’re really quite small you need platform soles
or stand on your toes to reach the old scroll
That glows in a stone to the east of Andoo
Where you’re destined to find a very big clue”
With swords fully sharp and magically glowing
They arrived at their end as if without knowing
(though observers would say in fact it was hours
And sitting so long had used all their powers)
Forgon reached up and fingered the hole
In which he was sure he was feeling the scroll
Then pulling it out he gently unfurled
The age old papyrus so anciently curled
And there to his joy was a the certain big clue
Now Forgon the Fjork knew for sure what to do.
For there on the sheet was a dim ancient rhyme
With instructions to sing it aloud ninteen times.
When that was complete the sky became wavy,
the mountains turned grey and dangerously hazy
Then as if it was magic Forgon’s eyes beamed
straight to a place he knew from a dream,
And there was a sign that was quite plain to see
Yay I’ve remembered he whooped with delight
I’m going home fellas, I’ll be there tonight
My home’s in my heart I knew all along
I needed to put the right words in a song
It’s not a long way it’s a short ride from here
We’ll tell the Great Forgin his son’s in the clear;
Then Forgon forswore he’d handle the blame
As they jumped on the 7.10 northern bound train
Was quite close to Scunthorpe between you and me
The fact it was lost and left in seclusion
is no big surprise it’s a Forgon conclusion