Troubadour

This song was written after hearing a concert
an hour north of Reykjavik, Iceland, in a small town
named Borgarnes. KK (Cow-Cow) performed with
his sister, Ellen, in a little old church for the
residents of the town. I began to write it while
driving back to 101 Reykjavik in the rain.

An ancient stone chapel
A far away town
Leaded glass windows
Rain coming down
Men, women and children
All gathered ´round
The troubadour takes to the stage

He stands by the candles
Just under the cross
He sings about loving
He sings about loss
The rain at the windows
The pain in his voice
The troubadour sings of our lives

What country is this
What is this town´s name
I´ve traveled the world
We´re so much the same
We huddle our bodies
Protecting the flame
The troubadour´s voice is our own

We join in the chorus
Help keep the time
The angels among us
Are part of the rhyme
It´s a folk song we´re singing
It´s yours and it´s mine
It keeps us from being alone

Who is this singer
I´ve heard him before
His son´s been in trouble
His dad´s been to war
His mother, she died
When he was just four
And he learned to play her guitar

An ancient stone chapel
A far away town
Leaded glass windows
Rain coming down
Men, women and children
All gathered ´round
The troubadour speaks to the age

DL