The leaves will turn their golden hues and time will pass, spent poor and well
the men like ants, will march on through some bound for heaven, some for hell
Let me recall a tale of strife between two sides with different aims
The side of truth, good will and humour; the side of anger, taunts and flames
Good Baladeer, lute-toting bard, sang beautiful tales while your glass was filled
And travellers came from miles around to soak within his haven guild
His ally, Poetwheel was there, a jester he would entertain
with tales absurd, or abstract rhyme, spilling from his idle brain
Thing were always well and grand at the Inn of Baladeer
tankards filled and emptied oft, song and dance, maidens fair
Until the day the wind blew cold, townspeople gathered at the Inn
They spoke with fear of a twosome bold, with reputations filled with sin
Long John Silver was the first, a brutish oaf with one eye out
A silver hook where a hand should be, a limp in part due to the gout
Toerag was his ghoulish ace, a great hump adorned his mottled back
his spoke with grunts, or with his club; he could deliver such a whack!
Worried, folk feared for the worst, what troubles would this duo bring?
Would Poetwheel and Baladeer draw their swords, unleash their sting?
The tension caused ones hair to raise, so tight as skin upon a drum
Then mighty BOOMS! The door flung wide; Toerag and his John had come!
They ambled hard up to the bar, demanding ale and bellyfill
They cursed and swore, harrassed and pushed, they glared and passed a surly chill
When from the corner, through the din, a song as sweet as summer birds
Poetwheel and Baladeer enchanted all with kindly words
At once the evil duo froze, with mouths agape they sat in trance
Soothed by the music, sweet and pure which filled with magic all the manse
The tale was of two children lost; there families ne'er again to see
and how they struggled with the world which dealt with them so cruelly
Now as men they roamed the hills, bittered like a wine too aged
They'd never felt the hand of help, only insults, taunts and rage
The townsfolk sat in dreamy awe, then startled by a slamming door
And when they looked across the Inn, Toerag and Long John were no more
The men let out with battle cries, "you drove the evil fiends away!"
But Balladeer then stood and spoke "Did not you hear the words we say?"
"We too, the Poetwheel and I, were also orphaned, left alone,
But we, with luck were found by kindness; love and tenderness was shown."
"When again you see those two, remember it was simple fate,
Could well be they inside our shoes, and Poetwheel and I with hate."
From that day forth the town was changed, all were welcomed without fear
To share an ale, a song, a meal, inside the Inn of Baladeer!