The Keg and Anchor

I was living in a foreign town, south on the Trinsic Coast down,
Waiting for adventure to come and find me.
A friendly place, a familiar face, some ale and a tiny trace
Of singing in the distance far behind me.

A copper across the counter then, a shy hello, a brand new friend
A walk along the street in the wintry weather
A yellow light, the Keg and Anchor, and a "Welcome friend, there's room for more."
And then we're standing there inside together.

I said, "I've heard that tune before somewhere but I can't remember when,
Was it on some other friendly shore, did I hear it on the wind?
Was it written on the sky above, I think I heard it from someone I love,
But I never heard a sound so sweet since then."

And now my feet begin to tap, a little boy says, "I'll take your hat."
I'm caught up in the magic of a smile.
Leap, the heart inside me went, and off across the floor I sent
My awkward body, graceful as a child.

I said, "There's magic in the singer's voice and there's magic in this town,
There's magic in the dancers' feet and the way they put them down.
People smiling everywhere, boots and ribbons, locks of hair
Laughter, merry talk and quest day gowns."

The crowd is gone with the war, the room is bare, the old lute is sitting there
Someone's hat's left hanging on the rack.
The empty chair, the wooden floor that feels the touch of shoes no more
Awaiting for the dancers to come back.

And the lute's in the closet of some warrior of the town,
The strings are broke, the pick is gone and the cover's buttoned down
But sometimes on pale winter nights, when the air is cold and the wind is right
There's a melody that passes through the town.