The Little People Of Iceland

Elves and gnomes and Trolls' and dwarfs' home Magic Island Called Iceland The Fireland Leprechauns and hobgoblins All around this place All inside these stones In this land of fire and ice Called Iceland, the gate land The little people Of stormy Iceland The hidden folk of This magic island Are living inside Some rocks and hummocks Behind the cascade Under the hillocks Elves and gnomes... The pixies and the old imps Underneath these rocks Beyond the cascades, By the hot wells in Iceland The fire land, the gate land Those nature spirits Are mostly friendly To all of those who Behave most kindly However, if one Dares to disturb them He will regret it And they will haunt 'em. Elves and gnomes... Only a few folks Can really see them But in the dense fog You might just hear them Some silent whispering Around their places Will tell of their reign Through the ages