Longo Burrow's farm outside of Tuckborough saw an unfortunate incident once, involving pipeweed and biscuits... And here is a song about it!
Best sung to the tune of The Foggy Dew, here in a grand version by Sinead O'Connor and The Chieftains. It is somewhat a sacrilege to sing a whimsical biscuity nonsense song to such a grand, sad, haunting tune, but still... We play a slightly different-sounding version in the game, though.
The song was first performed during the third farm concert of the Songburrow Strollers, Sunday October 21st.
In the fields where all the pipeweed grew
Come and sit with me as I tell me tale one of danger, loss and sinful pride From the Burrow farm, where the farmer's son was about to go and find a bride He combed his hair with the utmost care and he wore a woolly waistcoat blue And he found a flower in the early hour in the fields where all the pipeweed grew
But the lasses here crave a special treat from a lad who comes to court their hand There's no finer thing than a biscuit sweet say the daughters of the local land The farmer's son made both scone and bun and some biscuits of golden nutty hue There were more than eight cooling on a plate in the fields where all the pipeweed grew
It was nearing noon when the farmer's son went to get his cooling pastry plates With his head held high he went to the fields when he stopped and stared and cursed the fates No pastry here, not a crumb was there but a sound from the fields was coming through Someone ate their brunch, with a munch and crunch in the fields where all the pipeweed grew#
Now the farmer's son broke into a run with a shout that made the air turn blue But the pastry thief was a skillful one hiding better than a sleeping shrew "You deceitful lout, I will smoke you out" "Bring me all of my pastry good as new!" Not a sound came through, save a crunchy chew in the fields where all the pipeweed grew
Now the farmer's son made a cunning plan one that's sure to end his biscuit drought So he gathered leaves from the pipeweed fields starting fires to flush the rascal out He got a scare when a gust of air made the fire spread and smoke block all his view With a crackling sound fire spread around in the fields where all the pipeweed grew
Come and sit with me as I tell me tale one of danger, loss and sinful pride From the Burrow farm, where the farmer's son never found a sweet and lovely wife But he found the thief who just gave him grief and her bottom turned well and truly blue Then he closed up show, for there was no crop in the fields where all the pipeweed grew