Gather round the village square

Come good people both wretched

and fair.

See the troubadour play on the drum

Hear my songs on the lute that I strum.

I will make you laugh,

Revel, Merry-dance.

Throw your pennies, then you'll hear

more of

the story-telling half.

There's no other chance,

Always move on

Raconteur, troubadour.

Take the face that you see for the man,

Clown and minstrel, I am what I am.

All my family, not of my kin.

Home, wherever, the place that I'm in.

Humors give me wage,

Favors for my art.

Rising, falling

Everyone struggle on.

All the world's a stage

All can play their part.

I have chosen

Raconteur, troubadour.

Dusk is drawing my story is spun,

Dawn is falling my day's work is done.

Morning, rested I set on my way.

Find new faces to offer my play.

I will make you laugh,

Revel, Merry-dance.

Throw your pennies, then you'll hear

more of

The story-telling half.

There's no other chance.

Always move on

Raconteur-Troubadour.



Note:

Here we have tried to capture something

of the medieval English troubadour,

by the instrumentation, arrangement

and lyrics.



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