When it comes to worldly news There’s no need to explore With all our modern media Very hard to ignore We are told by word and image All this worldly news and more Sometimes so graphically You feel like an old ‘Voyeur’
(Instrumental motif)
Have you ever wondered How it was in days of ‘yore’ When heard by word of mouth Or a message to your door It mattered not, your place in life Or whether rich or poor They gathered round and listened To the words of the Troubadour
They were a special Guild of men Known by the clothes they wore Who came as wandering minstrels Travelling from shore to shore Telling affairs of State All the gossip, news and more In ballad, song and verse narrate With the skill of a ‘Raconteur’ (Instrumental motif)
Without so many options Back in those days of ‘Yore’ Perhaps with a homing pigeon Or in a bottle washed ashore A Troubadour would come around Unless met force ’majeure’ For everyone relied on them For news and the local ‘lore’
Now even in this modern world What’s old, is new once more For those with a tale to tell Can sing it to a music score And with this means of telling us Bring the Herald to your door For all those who wish to hear The return of the Troubadour. (Instrumental motif)
What’s old, is new once more Bring this Herald to your door For all those who wish to hear The return of the Troubadour
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