[Intro - Soft, flickering piano. Glasses being quietly collected. A single, weary voice.]
[Warm, tired voice, slightly slurred]
The fire's low... the night is old...
The stories have all been told...
One last round, before we go.
---
[Verse 1 - Gentle acoustic, intimate]
The tavern's closing, the fire's low
The hunters stumble, the Wyverians go
But before we leave, we raise one more
To the ones we lost and the ones we adore
The mugs are empty, the chairs are stacked
The last few hunters have got their packs
Ready to stumble home to bed
With memories swimming in their head
---
[Pre-Chorus - Soft harmonies enter]
One last sip... (ONE LAST SIP)
One last taste... (ONE LAST TASTE)
Of the ale... (OF THE ALE)
We can't waste... (WE CAN'T WASTE)
---
[Chorus - Quiet, warm, beautiful]
WHEN THE TAVERN CLOSES, THE HUNTING STOPS
WE STAGGER HOME ACROSS THE MOUNTAIN TOPS
BUT IN OUR HEARTS, THE FIRE BURNS
THE WYVERIAN FIRE—IT NEVER SPURNS
---
[Verse 2 - Slightly more instrumentation]
The barkeep wipes the stained wood down
A Wyverian elder with a permanent frown
But tonight he smiled and joined our song
Said "I've been here so damn long"
"I've watched a thousand taverns close
I've watched a thousand hunters doze
Right there where you're sitting now
With ale still wet upon their brow"
---
[Pre-Chorus 2]
Same old chairs... (SAME OLD CHAIRS)
Same old stares... (SAME OLD STARES)
Different hunters... (DIFFERENT HUNTERS)
Same old prayers... (SAME OLD PRAYERS)
---
[Chorus]
WHEN THE TAVERN CLOSES, THE HUNTING STOPS
WE STAGGER HOME ACROSS THE MOUNTAIN TOPS
BUT IN OUR HEARTS, THE FIRE BURNS
THE WYVERIAN FIRE—IT NEVER SPURNS
---
[Bridge - Spoken word over soft piano]
[Elderly Wyverian, warm and wise]
I'll be here tomorrow. Same time. Same place.
The fire will be lit. The ale will be poured.
[Pause]
...and you'll come back. You always do.
[Soft laugh]
Because the tavern isn't just a building. It's a promise.
---
[Verse 3 - Emotional, powerful yet quiet]
I STAGGER OUT INTO THE NIGHT
THE STARS ABOVE ARE BRIGHT
I THINK OF ALL THE HUNTERS GONE
THE ONES WHO DRANK AND SANG THEIR SONGS
RIGHT HERE WHERE I NOW STAND ALONE
WITH NOTHING BUT MY THOUGHTS AND BONE
BUT IN MY HEART, THE FIRE GLOWS
THE SAME FIRE THAT EVERY HUNTER KNOWS
---
[Guitar Solo - Gentle, melodic, like a lullaby]
---
[Breakdown - Soft swaying, candles flickering]
Door creaks shut... (DOOR CREEKS SHUT)
Fire dies... (FIRE DIES)
Hunters walk... (HUNTERS WALK)
Beneath the skies... (BENEATH THE SKIES)
Tavern sleeps... (TAVERN SLEEPS)
Till dawn appears... (TILL DAWN APPEARS)
The elder waits... through all the years
---
[Final Chorus - Soft, fading, layered]
WHEN THE TAVERN CLOSES, THE HUNTING STOPS
WE STAGGER HOME ACROSS THE MOUNTAIN TOPS
BUT IN OUR HEARTS, THE FIRE BURNS
THE WYVERIAN FIRE—IT NEVER SPURNS
---
[Outro - Fading footsteps, distant door closing]
[Whispered]
...see you tomorrow, hunter.
[Pause]
The hunt always waits.
…..and so do we.