[Intro — Accordion, creaking wood, tavern ambience] [Spoken — Rook] Now, I've sailed through storms, Fought monsters, escaped the law, And survived seventeen kinds of trouble. But I have NEVER seen a town Without a proper drink! [Accordion kicks in] [Verse 1 — Swaggering shanty] I came ashore in a forest town, With growing gears and roots all 'round, The crew ran off to explore the place, And left their captain without a trace! The fox went chasing a harvest wheel, The scholar found some grand reveal, The silver one went chasing code, And I'm left thirsty on a garden road! [Chorus — Stomping, rowdy] OH, THERE AIN'T A DROP OF RUM! Not a barrel, not a crumb! Just water, sap, and something green, In the strangest town I've ever seen! HEY! THERE AIN'T A DROP OF RUM! And I'm wondering what we've become! They've got a city grown from trees, BUT NOTHING STRONGER THAN LEAFY TEA! [Verse 2 — Playful] I found a tavern by the square, With vines and blossoms everywhere, I asked the keeper for a drink, He poured me something pale and pink. "Is that a cider?" I asked with cheer, "No, sir, it's sap from a silver pear." "Then where's your ale? Your finest brew?" "We grow our drinks!" "WELL, GOOD FOR YOU!" They offered water, warm and sweet, And juice from roots beneath my feet, A cup of something thick as glue— I think the thing was drinking TOO! [Chorus] OH, THERE AIN'T A DROP OF RUM! Not a barrel, not a crumb! Just water, sap, and something green, In the strangest town I've ever seen! HEY! THERE AIN'T A DROP OF RUM! And my patience is nearly done! I've crossed the stars and sailed the foam, AND NEVER MISSED THE PUB BACK HOME! [Bridge — Music slows, curious creaking] But as I sat beside the door, I noticed something on the floor, The sunlight crept across the room— And then the room crept after noon. The window moved, the rafters sighed, The whole darn tavern leaned outside, I watched the shadow on the wall, And realized the building moved at all! [Spoken — Rook] Hold on... That tavern was facing WEST When I walked in. [Wooden creaking] ...Wasn't it? [Verse 3 — Rhythmic discovery] I marked a line beside the sill, Then watched the room against my will, A quarter-inch, perhaps a hair, But every house was turning there! The roofs were leaves, the walls were green
