Verse I
Now hush a moment, friends, lean near,
There’s music coming you almost hear,
A tune you know, but not quite right,
Played half a beat too fast tonight,
Through the door he slides with a borrowed smile,
Lute on his back and a style on trial,
If you swear you’ve heard that song before,
Congratulations, friend… you have, once or more.
Chorus
Oh Fleck, sweet Fleck, prince of the refrain,
Singing old glory with a brand-new name,
Raise up your mugs and sing along,
You’ll know every word by the second song,
Oh Fleck, bold Fleck, bow to the crowd,
Plays it too fast and sings it too loud,
If the tune feels stolen but the night feels right,
That’s Fleck the Bard, my friends, tonight!
Verse II
He learned his craft in the back of a hall,
Listening hard through a cracked stone wall,
Every chorus, every cheer,
Filed away in a memory clear,
He’ll swear it’s tribute, not theft, not crime,
Just “folk tradition” with excellent timing,
The elf scowls deep, the dwarf keeps time,
Because stolen songs still taste like wine.
Chorus
Oh Fleck, dear Fleck, maestro of maybe,
Is that ancient hymn or something new-ish lately?
He’ll wink mid-verse and change the key,
Call it improvisation, call it destiny,
Sing Fleck, loud Fleck, don’t ask how,
He’ll rhyme your name into the chorus now,
If the crowd goes wild and the critics groan,
Fleck’s already playing something else he owns!
Verse III
He cheats at cards with a clever rhyme,
Distracts the table just in time,
A verse, a joke, a chorus strong,
Nobody noticed the ace was gone,
He’ll lose the bet then steal the show,
Encore demanded before you know,
The innkeeper sighs but lets him stay,
Because Fleck brings business… in a very loud way.
Bridge
Now mark this truth and mark it well,
Not all great bards have tales to tell,
Some just listen, steal, and spin,
Till the room believes they’ve always been,
And when the song ends, cracked and bent,
And the crowd applauds what they already meant,
Fleck bows low, sweat on his brow,
Already forgetting how it went… somehow.
Final Chorus
Oh Fleck, oh Fleck, raise up the cheer,
To borrowed notes and ale-stained gear,
To half-known legends sung full-throated,
And copyrights politely unquoted,
Sing Fleck, mad Fleck, till voices break,
He’ll teach you the chorus, for goodness’ sake,
If tomorrow the song’s sung better than today,
Fleck will swear he taught it that way!
Outro
So drink to the bard with the familiar song,
The tune you knew all night long,
If you leave the inn humming something new,
Don’t worry, friend…
Fleck already heard it too.
The_Oak_and_Anvil
