Lyrics

Hear the minstrel's tune and take part in the wise,
Beneath the crescent moon, our silent rally cries.
Ballads tell our plight, but not in ways direct,
Sung with veiled might, the king cannot detect.
Through the tavern's haze and ale's embracing cheer,
We plan the end of days of tyranny we fear.
In shadows deep below the sky,
My voice a flame that's rising high
But clothed in songs of harvest rye.
We speak of love, and none suspect
The truth that's woven, tight and sly,
In every chord and high prospect.
Whispers dance from ear to ear,
As mugs are raised, the message clear.
Rebel hearts in rhythm bound,
Through each merry, lilting sound.
Jester's laugh, yet underneath,
A sword unsheathed, lies in its sheath.
Now heed the words as lutes are softly strummin',
In tavern light that flickers, coy and dim.
We'll raise a glass to days of change a'coming,
And in our unity, our chances never slim.
Chorus
So gather 'round, let the ballad be the sign,
Our anthem cloaked in verses fine,
In mirthful tones, we draw the line.
The minstrel's lute, a shield so strong,
With every note, we right the wrong.
And when the stars in sky alight,
We'll tread the path that leads to fight.