A night in the gallows, a night in an inn,

A night in a tavern, no one’s going to win,

A day in the streets a-walking about, settling down for my daily scout.

It is coin I seek for my endeavors, but it is not like it comes at the flick of a lever.

One song, two songs, three songs, four,

Then it is time to sing some more.

Being a bard is a lovely job, but not for those who aren’t lost.