The woods are lovely, dark, and deep:
A place to hide, a place to sleep.
A refuge from a nagging wife
For Mr. Winkle and his knife.
Although a made up character he
Is much like many others would be
And are right here, right now today
Who’d much rather leave, to go, and stay
Deep in the woods where dwarves and fox
Bowl in caves with kegs of beer and mugs to knock
Together with a joyous shout. It makes one weak
And fall into a deep, long sleep
So when one wakes up, all troubles are gone.
One sings a happy, little song
And starts anew in places rich
With milk and honey, and not a ditch
To fall into
Plus a table laden with as much food as you are able
To eat and live a merry life
Free from mortal human strife
You’ll find a wife with not so sharp a bladed tongue
With which to mince you ‘till she’s won
The battle of wits and sin
Of insults growing patience thin
You’ll find your life much better in
The place that gives dreams to men.