[Intro – gentle wind-through-leaves lute picking, distant bird calls woven in, the tavern grows hushed and a little wary] [Verse 1 – fond, slightly amused, warm baritone] She walks in barefoot, covered in moss and somebody else’s blood, Talking softly to the rat on her shoulder like it’s her oldest love. We say “Good morning,” she says “The oak behind you is sad today,” Then hands us a mushroom that definitely wasn’t there yesterday. She sleeps in the stables with the horses more than she sleeps in beds, And once turned a noble into a newt because he stepped on some flowers instead. [Pre-chorus – half-laughing, half-nervous] We joke that she likes animals more than people, She just smiles and says the animals never lie. [Chorus – grateful, reverent, but with a respectful edge of fear] Thank the gods for the Druid, thank the gods for the Druid! She speaks for the Green when the Green decides to get rude! Thank the gods for the Druid, thank the gods for the Druid! She’ll heal every wound and then summon a storm if you’re rude! She talks to the trees, she listens to stones, She can turn an army to fertilizer with a handful of bones— So be polite to the lady who wears feathers and fur, Because upsetting her means upsetting nature… and nature doesn’t defer. [Verse 2 – warmer but still cautious, voice full of awe] She once turned into a dire wolf the size of a house just to carry the wounded out, Then turned back and apologized to the fleas for the violence and the shout. She calls lightning from clear skies when the undead get too bold, And the ravens all bow when she walks past like she’s something ancient and old. We’ve seen her make the very earth rise up and swallow a dragon whole, Then spend twenty minutes apologizing to the worms for disturbing their soul. [Pre-chorus – quieter, almost reverent] She’s gentle with the smallest sparrow, terrifying with the rest, And we’ve all quietly agreed it’s probably for the best. [Bridge – voice drops low and serious, lute rumbles like roots shifting underground] When the balance breaks and the world begins to scream, When even paladins and wizards reach the end of their dream… She places one bare foot upon the ground and whispers to the stone, And the forest itself stands up to fight for the life it’s always known. We stand behind a woman who could end us with a thought, Yet chooses every single day to heal the wounds we’ve brought. [Final Chorus – big, grateful, full of genuine love and healthy fear] Thank the gods for the Druid, thank the gods for the Druid! She keeps the Green alive and the rest of us un-liquid! Thank the gods for the Druid, thank the gods for the Druid! She loves every creature more than people, and honestly… that’s valid. She talks to the trees, she answers to none, She’ll save your life and then scold you for harming a single blade of grass under the sun— So raise your cups high, but raise them with care, To the weird and wonderful Druid… who we’re all very glad is there. [Outro – lute returns to soft leafy picking, one final respectful bird call] …Please don’t turn us into squirrels.
