(Holopainen & Laine) What the trust toils at The partridge asks for The hapless one takes The troubled one steals Puts upon a spade Sets on a runner Hides under a door Shields with a bath-whisk The farmer hammers And tempers his spears Marries off his sons Hands out his daughters In boots clogged with clay In fancy mittensThe sea-swell rumbles And the wind it blow And the king hears it From six directions From seven backwoods
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