Sweet little baby,
lovely little one,
all the dragons are slain,
the hearths are lit,
the chests are bare,
and the heroes off to seek their pay.
It’s just you, me, and the evergreens,
as they swing and sway.
Sweet little baby,
the story’s all been told.
Only the forgotten are left
and doomed to grow old.
But it’s not so bad,
lovely
little
o
n
e
.
I’ve no plans to listen idle.
a
n
d
t
h
e
r
e
’
s
stories enough.
there’s stories enough,
without a need for us.
