song

Song

If space and time, as sages say,
    Are things which cannot be,
The fly that lives a single day
    Has lived as long as we.
But let us live while yet we may,
    While love and life are free,
For time is time, and runs away,
    Though sages disagree.

The flowers I sent thee when the dew
    Was trembling on the vine,
Were withered ere the wild bee flew
    To suck the eglantine.
But let us haste to pluck anew
    Nor mourn to see them pine,
And though the flowers of love be few
    Yet let them be divine.

There’s a band called Harry and the Potters, and they sing songs about, you guessed it, Lord of the Rings.

Right. So, they sing songs about Harry Potter, and sometimes those songs are about how the economics of the wizarding world don’t make sense.

I live for a good, obscure worldbuilding roast.

My wand only cost seven galleons
That doesn’t seem like much
No, it seems like a bargain

How does Ollivander stay in business?
There’s only so many kids
Who buy wands
There’s only so many kids

Ten galleons for a unicorn hair
Seven galleons for a brand new wand
Ten galleons for a unicorn hair
Minus three to Ollivander

That Book Broad

Let's get lit.

Tag: song

If space and time, as sages say,
    Are things which cannot be,
The fly that lives a single day
    Has lived as long as we.
But let us live while yet we may,
    While love and life are free,
For time is time, and runs away,
    Though sages disagree.

The flowers I sent thee when the dew
    Was trembling on the vine,
Were withered ere the wild bee flew
    To suck the eglantine.
But let us haste to pluck anew
    Nor mourn to see them pine,
And though the flowers of love be few
    Yet let them be divine.

The economics of the wizarding world don’t make sense

Song

If space and time, as sages say, Are things which cannot be,The fly that lives a single day Has lived as long as we.But let us live while yet we may, While love and life are free,For time is time, and runs away, Though sages disagree.

The flowers I sent thee when the dew Was trembling on the vine,Were withered ere the wild bee flew To suck the eglantine.But let us haste to pluck anew Nor mourn to see them pine,And though the flowers of love be few Yet let them be divine.

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If space and time, as sages say,
Are things which cannot be,
The fly that lives a single day
Has lived as long as we.
But let us live while yet we may,
While love and life are free,
For time is time, and runs away,
Though sages disagree.

The flowers I sent thee when the dew
Was trembling on the vine,
Were withered ere the wild bee flew
To suck the eglantine.
But let us haste to pluck anew
Nor mourn to see them pine,
And though the flowers of love be few
Yet let them be divine.