Little changeling why do you cry?
Is it 'cause you aren't fair,
with rosy cheeks or yellow hair.
Your own mother gave you up
like a stray dog's little pup
Abandoned by your own kin
weak and ill and oh, so thin
you're going to wither under the sun
you'll never grow to be a man
For the good folk gave you away,
for them to live you have to pay.
And if you survive the blazing sun
they'll never treat you like their son.
You'll only joke and play pranks
be mischievous despite the spanks,
behind your back people will talk,
"He must be of the elven folk".