Alan The Musicians

In days of yore there was a ring
It was a small and curious thing
And that ring dwelt on the finger
Of a legendary singer
Angry and Scottish (a bit of a minger)
Round great musicians he used to linger
But how did he happen to come upon it
He claimed he took it from a hobbit
The hobbit thought it Armageddon.
His unfortunate name was Frodo Seddon
And he was a frightful liar,
He told his friends there was a fire
And wizards and a giant spider
Not that he had consumed too much cider
And an angry Scot had spied the hobbit
And chopped off his finger like John Wayne Bobbit
Just so he could steal the ring
And look more cool in fancy bling.
The ring was a symbol of great power
And it's might began to devour
Our angry Scot who hid in a tower
For a thousand years give or take a few
Until he felt reborn anew
And returned to the world a love machine
Who liked to lick his platter clean
And took for himself a lovely bride
Who was soon to carry inside
Her womb a baby, or maybe two,
That would eventually give a clue
As to our Scotsman's ugly past
Like Alice through the looking glass
Or Dorian Gray giving birth to a painting
Leaving the midwives screaming and fainting
As two baby boys came into the world
One cried softly, the other one hurled
And, though this should have been a time of mirth
The mother died whilst giving birth
And was buried with a wreath
Leaving the orphans, Alan and Keith,
To make their own way on this plane
They would know the true meaning of pain
As their father has long since gone
And left their mother on her own
Keith had a bonny, cheeky grin
And a kind family took him in
But Alan was born disfigured and grim
Though he was tall and slim
He would be left to roam the place
Like a tramp in disgrace
Masked and cloaked and gloved
Lonely, angry and unloved. .. width="425" height="350" ..