[happy introduction music] [Verse 1] Matt the Small Wood Gnome was a sight to behold, Lived in a thimble when the weather turned cold. Carved little toothpicks from splinters of bark, You’d need a microscope just to find his “lumber yard” mark. He’d boast in the tavern, slam fists on the bar, “Behold my big timber!” — folks asked, “Where is it at?” They squinted and searched with a magnified look, Found nothing but sawdust and half of a nook. [Pre-Chorus] Oh Matt, oh Matt, why you shout and stomp? Your twig’s so tiny it could hide on an ant’s pomp. You wave it around like you’re king of the wood, But it’s barely a splinter — misunderstood. [Chorus] Hey! Matt the Microscopic Gnome, Ruler of a matchstick throne, Swingin’ that stick like a mighty pine, But it’s barely there — need a dotted line! Tantrums shaking the forest floor, Screamin’ at knots in a wooden door, When the king’s men come, you’ll surely be shown To the dungeon below — in a time-out zone! [Verse 2] He sees spooky scribbles in the rings of a tree, “Devils and demons are whispering to me!” But it’s just a pattern in the oak’s old grain, Still he’s ranting in the rain again. He’ll kick and he’ll flail when the acorns fall, Yelling, “Curses!” at a garden wall. Throws himself down in a leafy heap, Over a twig that was two inches deep. [Pre-Chorus] Oh Matt, oh Matt, calm down, breathe, It’s just a stump, not a demon beneath. Your bark is loud but your bite is small, Like the tiniest branch in the forest at all. [Chorus] Hey! Matt the Microscopic Gnome, Guardian of a splintered comb, Braggin’ ‘bout wood that no one can see, It’s a microscopic forestry! Stampin’ your feet till the moss has flown, Crown made of pinecones slightly overthrown, When the king’s men grab you, don’t moan and groan — It’s the dungeon suite for the overblown! [Bridge] Kicking and screaming down cobblestone streets, Shouting at shadows and invisible feats, “Release me! I’m mighty! My timber is vast!” But the royal guard’s laughing as they hurry him past. A padded throne in a tower room high, With coloring books and a magnifying eye. “Perhaps,” says the king, “you’ll finally see Your lumber’s more… bonsai tree.” [Final Chorus] Oh! Matt the Microscopic Gnome, Tiny twig on a temper throne, Yell at the heavens, rage at the sky, Still can’t make that sapling grow high. Forest will whisper, moss will have fun, Teasing the gnome with the teeny one. So stomp and roar till your face turns red [epic instrumental interlude] It’s hard to be feared with a toothpick instead. [Outro] Matt the Small Wood Gnome, take heed, Big loud tantrums don’t grow big trees indeed. In the king’s dungeon, you’ll finally reflect… Even a splinter deserves some respect.
