(ęBob Blue 1990)

When I look out and see a world out of control,
Why should I go out there?
I like this comfortable and quiet little hole.
I like my easy chair.
I like to curl up with a book
Of ancient lyric poetry,
And if I pause, from time to time,
Perhaps to make a pot of tea,
I can be sure, when I return,
That I have saved my place for me,
Because I always treat myself
With tender, loving care.

It's not a castle with a drawbridge and a moat.
It's just a hobbit hole.
It's not a dwelling any passer-by would note.
It's just a hobbit hole
And there's no view of snow-capped mountains,
Or of whitecaps on the sea,
So people passing it just pass it -
Go their way and let it be.
It's just a little piece of earth
That no one thinks about but me.
There's no one trying to control
My little hobbit hole.

I know the world outside proceeds
from bad to worse.
You go to market, and they empty out your purse.
The world expects you to be much more
than you are.
That's why I seldom, very seldom, travel far.

But every moment I am fortunate to spend
Within my hobbit hole,
No matter whether I'm alone or with a friend,
Inside my hobbit hole,
Down deep inside me, there's a feeling
That, perhaps, can't be expressed.
I'm snuggled safely in the comfort
Of my quiet little nest.
Although the world may treat me harshly,
Here at home, I know I'm blessed -
This little harbor for my soul -
My little hobbit hole.

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