The ballad of the three
Troubadour, bard and sausage maker
In a time before the booty shaker
Unlikely team
Babbling stream
Their art was a money raker
Every story has a beginning
The climb before the winning
Song and story
Time before glory
The laughs and fists that send them spinning
A drunken loon that all ignore
Waltzed upon the butcher's door
Angry shout
Cast out
The nonsense-chanting troubadour
Around the sausage maker turned
Saved as the little market burned
A man saved
Adventure craved
Unlikely debt to be returned
Singing and dancing with no justification
Blending the days with no destination
Princes of mud
Fall with a thud
All to be shunned by a nation
But in the muck they met another
Cast from a tavern, a third unlikely brother
Running hard
Came the bard
In a crash to match no other
Cast from the village were all three
With only each other for company
Treading a wood
Where none should
Combating their fears in harmony
Around then they all discovered
Their hidden talent uncovered
Tales of long
Cast in song
As the people marveled and hovered
Across the towns they would flourish
Singing by tunes of lute and Moorish
Low and high
They sang to sky
To the soul the music seemed to nourish
So now you see how in a time so hard
Of the plain commoner whom none regard
Three ill-fated
The hand belated
Upon a sausage maker, troubadour and bard