Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Stumbled into Westhelm Mud on my boots Dry throat Lanterns hung on crooked beams Laughter thick as smoke Bandits at the corner table Dice piled high like gold Adventurers trading bruised old maps For stories already told [Chorus] Raise your cups in Westhelm Sing for the coin you earned For the days you almost died out there And the nights when the ale still burned I sold my wares for silver But I’d trade it all I swear For one more song in Westhelm And the courage I found there [Verse 2] Laid my packs upon the counter Hands still shook from the road Merchant weighed my shabby goods Counted every load Eyes on every sudden movement Hand on a hidden knife Anxious heart like a skittish horse Trying hard to trust this life [Chorus] [Bridge] Bandit winked and passed a drink Said “Fear just feeds the wolves” An armored priest began to laugh Spilling half his brew “Out beyond these wooden walls Death waits everywhere But inside here You’re one of us” They roared And raised the air [Chorus]
Tags
Rustic fantasy tavern tune with lute and fiddle leading, upright bass walking softly beneath a swinging hand-percussion groove. Male vocals close and storytelling, with a rowdy room singalong on the chorus. Fiddle lines answer vocal phrases, and a tin whistle doubles the hook on repeat. Warm room reverb makes it feel like a packed, firelit tavern.
Duration
2:59
Instrumental
No
Created
1/9/2026