Hey Troubadour won’t you sing me a tune.
They tell me your pain has saved many a fool.
You sing of torture. You sing from your wounds.
So hey Troubadour won’t you sing me a tune.

They say your heart’s filled with nettles and thorns.
A wild garden left neglected to form.
Into a dangerous forbidden home.
Of unhappy stories no one wants to own.

A heart that’s left to sleep.
A mind that delves into the unwanted.
You draw me in.I can’t help but feel.
There’s part of me in every story.

You’re a stranger who knows me well. You dance in my soul; a ballroom of hell.
Confronting my demons. Undoing the spell.
So sing your songs and let my heart rebel.

Written by S.K.Jackson

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