The Troubadour
The troubadour taps lightly on the window pane nightly
He retraces his steps, treading gently,
a reminder of places he has been
He soothes your dreams with balms of hope
His stories and songs speak of deeds past, the buried dead
With transgressions and regret,
Sadly, we have listened to the jesters,
For far too long, and
the clowns with their rhetoric, lies, painted smiles,
and empty promises,
Listen to his lyrics; his song carries truths and joy
The troubadour retraces his steps
His message sounds again.
The troubadour taps lightly on the window pane nightly
He retraces his steps, treading gently
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