A lonely bard wandering across the lands am I. Singing dancing finding answers to every why. The taverns are full and one crosses my path too. I just might reward myself with a beer or two. This inn the place of many romantic tales. On the loft women offer their sales. But my eyes they catch a girl beat by everyone. A slave she is but for me a rose undone. Hear me sing. Watch me dance. Play that lute of thine. And share with me this dance. As she danced my eyes began to shine. There she was the maiden so divine. How could I approach her with my outlook so poor. Her beauty being much more than I could endure. So I asked if I could sing a chanson. With a language of ancient and of lore. Gathered the men around us me and the girl in rags. Soon were the melodies heard by everyone. Hear us sing. Watch us dance. Sing with us this tale. With a clap of hands. The stories long-forgotten we still know. Performing our skills wherever we go. I end my story as I receive a kiss. From my girl the dearest Beatrice. Hear us sing. Watch us dance. Sing with us the tales. Which the music will keep alive