mischief and such wit
  moony, wormtail, padfoot, prongs
  they're the marauders
and when the job's done
  wave your wand and just say this
  'mischief managed!' done
cleverness present
  but wasted on breaking rules
  yet used for the fun

In the sea that is green
with a hook in it's mouth
In a jungle that is dark
a thorn in his foot
In the heavy heat of desert
Sun in the eyes
A bird sings from his placement
On a barbed wire fence
Do not fly so high
That your wings will freeze
Barn mouse
Boils water in his kettle
He whistles whistles out a tune
Old padfoot outside sleeping
His dreams of warm blood
And swift hunts
The moon is high now
The river flowing like a silver ribbon
An old farmer rides his wagon
Pulled on by the old mare
He was once ran wild through
Golden plains far away
But one day he ran too far from home

Reality is like a dream
When you spend all day trying to escape
From its weight
Which like an elephant fills the room
Pull open the door and step away
Like a phone box whose bigger on the inside
The mind always finds a way to hide
Where fae and fairy folk dance their magic dance
Fair maidens say their right words
And young hobbits smoke to victory
Pipping away their pipe songs to the sound of groaning trees
Dwarves become kings having fought themselves free
When padfoot, wormtail and prong create mischief along the moving stair
And a boy who lived once again
No reality can be rather lame
Because adventure awaits..
"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit..."