Is this poem about having too much ale? You can never have too much ale! Seeing Things In this Inn, it just won't do To see a hobbit wearing shoes He even has a beard too It just won't do, of course! He's sitting there upon a chair I'll go and walk right over there And give this lad a telling stare No wait, it is a dwarf! I turn around and go quite red A window, I'll look out instead! But there I see with utmost dread A dragon is outside I shake the Inn with such a call But when I near I see it all It's just a painting on the wall! And there's no need to hide I think its best if I sit down But there's some creature on the ground Just lurking there without a sound Much larger than a cat There's unkempt fur upon its back I think it's planning its attack But then I notice, legs it lacks! It's just a woolly mat! You know, I'm feeling rather queer The strange things that I'm seeing here Could it be due to ale, I fear I don't know what to think My mind has clearly gone to bits I must, somehow, regain my wits I know the thing that's just the trick I'll have another drink!