Love sat alone on his re-writ throne
And every other turn made a resource stone;
If a Song was played, he a resource made,
But Songs were hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!
In a binder's tabs Love dwelt alone
For Songs were hard to come by.
Then up came Stew with his bearing rude
And asked he Love: 'Why, who are you?
You're no card of note or your name I'd know;
You must be binder fodder.
You're a stranger to me but not quite new;
You must be binder fodder.'
'My friend,' said Love, 'you knew me old of;
Why, once we were close as a hand in glove!
But Caleb was vexed by my ready text,
And to fix it he had me erratad.
He took a red pen to my box of text,
And I was knelt down by errata.'
'No wonder you're here!' Stew said with a sneer,
'Our players have no need for a crippled deer!
The fans have no need of weaklings.
There exists no room for weak cards here,
And errata makes you but a weakling.'
'but there are other players with a different view.
And, though I have zip for the players Pip,
I have plenty for players Bilbo.
I have naught for the others, this fact is true,
But I have plenty to offer Bilbo.'
Now, Stew was stunned and right outgunned
For Love had repeated what Caleb had sung;
'You can be strong or part of combo long,
But there's also room for thematic.
There was a need for those cards that had the game outgunned,
But there was also a need for thematic.
Stew bid Love 'good day' and then ran away,
Lest Caleb decide his text, too, to slay;
But Love don't care, for he didn't stay there,
For a Bilbo player found him.
Pound him! Ground him!
He was taken on out, The Long Dark to play,
For a Bilbo player had found him.