It once were two refugee children

It once were two refugee children,
who loved eachother so much.
They couldn't get together
as the roots were much too deep,
as the roots were much too deep.

Oh love, can't you sneak
past those Kitins to me?
Three candles I shall light for you,
they shall shine for you.

Yet a zealous kincher overheard,
pretended to be asleep fast,
and snuffed out the candles,
so the homins to lost in the roots.

It was one morning,
people were all so happy,
but not so the king's dauther,
her eyes quite watery.

The mother spoketh to her daughter:
Alone you shall not go,
wake up your youngest sister,
together thou shall go.

But mother, my sister is still a child!
She's picking flowers just fine
on the lush madows
here in the Matis' grove.

The mother went the king's guard house
and picked an escort.
Together they went down there
and found a jolly path
and reached happily the other side
and found the king's sun, all very merrily.