The ballad of the three

Troubadour, bard and sausage maker

In a time before the booty shaker

Unlikely team

Babbling stream

Their art was a money raker

Every story has a beginning

The climb before the winning

Song and story

Time before glory

The laughs and fists that send them spinning

A drunken loon that all ignore

Waltzed upon the butcher's door

Angry shout

Cast out

The nonsense-chanting troubadour

Around the sausage maker turned

Saved as the little market burned

A man saved

Adventure craved

Unlikely debt to be returned

Singing and dancing with no justification

Blending the days with no destination

Princes of mud

Fall with a thud

All to be shunned by a nation

But in the muck they met another

Cast from a tavern, a third unlikely brother

Running hard

Came the bard

In a crash to match no other

Cast from the village were all three

With only each other for company

Treading a wood

Where none should

Combating their fears in harmony

Around then they all discovered

Their hidden talent uncovered

Tales of long

Cast in song

As the people marveled and hovered

Across the towns they would flourish

Singing by tunes of lute and Moorish

Low and high

They sang to sky

To the soul the music seemed to nourish

So now you see how in a time so hard

Of the plain commoner whom none regard

Three ill-fated

The hand belated

Upon a sausage maker, troubadour and bard