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Klinkar Strakentir

by Talespinner

And here’s to you Klinkar Strakentir

The Duke has put you here in Berenholm

            It’s your new home

The manor’s yours Klinkar Strakentir

Sorry ‘bout the mess, we’ll find the maid

            She’s old and gray, 90 yesterday

 

We’d like to welcome you to our quiet rural town

We’ve got a quilting group three times a week

Look around you, don’t you like our chickens, sheep and pigs?

Stroll into the pub, the bean soup’s really good

 

So why so blue, Klinkar Strakentir?

Pastoral life is whimsy for the soul

            It’s oh so droll

We have fun here, Klinkar Strakentir

Our sheering festival’s coming up next week

            That’s when the priest will bless the fleece

 

The Duke put you in a little town where no one ever goes

Put you in a hamlet known for bacon

There are no griffons here to ride into the sky

Instead you could go hunting possum and raccoon

 

Cock-a-doodle-doo Klinkar Strakentir

We’re pacifistic farmers in our shire

             Sword not required

You seem distressed, Klinkar Strakentir

Agitated and a mite depressed

            Perhaps it’s best you get some rest

 

Sitting in your manor on a fine spring afternoon

The breeze blowing in off the grainfields

We spread out 24 designer blends of manure

Within a month you’ll find that you’re a connoisseur

 

Beseech the Duke, Ignar and Fafnar

Your brother sends his couriers to you

            You would too

Berenholm is now known as Strakentir

The name’s not bad but the Klinkster’s going mad

            It’s kind of sad, oh so sad      

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