歌词
[Verse 1]
The Tipsy Turnip's ale did flow, a sight that warmed the soul,
But every morn, the kegs were low, a riddle to unroll.
The owner swore, his face turned red, "A CURSE OR THIEF!" he said.
Poor Parsnip Pratfall, mop in hand, was tasked to make a stand.
[Verse 2]
He watched the shadows long and keen, suspicion filled the air,
A goblin's greed, a rival's scheme? He vowed to set a snare.
With trembling hands his traps were laid, and curses 'neath his breath,
But come the dawn, with heart dismayed, the ale was gone like death.
[Chorus]
No spectral hand nor fiend so sly, the ale had up and flown!
Just whispered doubts and questions lie, the thief remained unknown.
The Tipsy Turnip, ill at ease, its very walls held mysteries,
And Parsnip, vexed and sore perplexed, sought answers unrevealed.
[Bridge]
The nights wore on, his patience frayed, each trap the rascal spurned,
A loaf of bread, a pie strayed, the vanished treats he mourned.
Yet, tiny clues began to gleam, a trail of mischief, so it seemed...
A gnawed crust here, crumbs on the floor, were these the signs he'd sought before?
[Verse 3]
He saw the signs, a trail so clear, of mischief's playful hand,
A vanished pie, cheese rind so bare, a plot he'd understand.
No rival's scheme nor goblin's spite, but cunning left its trace,
He'd snare the thief in dawning light, and solve this baffling case.
[Chorus]
No spectral hand nor fiend so sly, the ale had up and flown!
Just whispered doubts and questions lie, the thief remained unknown.
The Tipsy Turnip, ill at ease, its very walls held mysteries,
And Parsnip, vexed and sore perplexed, sought answers unrevealed.
[Verse 4]
And then he saw, a sight so strange, the culprit plain as day,
A furry face, with naught to change, the thief all in a fray!
With masked eyes wide, and bushy tail, it clambered high, then slipped and flailed,
And tumbled in a hapless heap, its clever plans all steeped in sleep.
[Verse 5]
He'll clean the mugs, and mop the mess, the tale untold, he'll still confess,
With twinkling eye and knowing grin, the night that Parsnip won the grin.
Beneath the stars, a softer sight, a creature fed, warm in the night.
And dreaming dreams of stolen cheer, the Tipsy Turnip bandit sleeps so near.
[End]
