[Intro] [lively nylon-string guitar in 7/8] [rasgueado over restrained metal pulse] [Verse 1] I knew old Bramble before his beard, His father before the limp, Three generations claimed that chair, Each swore the ale grew thin. I’ve heard men win their farms in stories, Then lose them at the door, Seen cowards talk like kings at midnight, And widows laugh through war. A face reveals the road it travelled Before the tongue begins, Mud remembers every turning, Eyes remember everything. [Pre-Chorus 1] Most tales arrive in borrowed feathers, Brightened by the teller’s pride, Still, beneath the painted plumage, Something living often hides. [Chorus] At the Green Dragon, Where the long roads meet, Every stranger leaves a story, Every story leaves some heat. At the Green Dragon, Keep the lantern steady, The world comes through in fragments, And I listen when it’s ready. [Verse 2] Old Cotter stopped midway through laughing, Turned before the sound, A horse cried out beyond the window, Then went quiet on the ground. Three men spoke of cloaked-out riders, Each one named a different road, Even those who mocked the warning Watched the doorway as they spoke. I have heard a thousand terrors Born from cider, spite, and rain, This one changed the way men swallowed, This one left a deeper stain. [Pre-Chorus 2] A lie grows louder when it trembles, Truth grows careful near the door, When familiar men choose silence, I begin to trust them more. [Chorus] At the Green Dragon, Where the long roads meet, Every stranger brings a shadow, Every shadow takes a seat. At the Green Dragon, Keep the lantern steady, The world comes through in fragments, And the road is speaking heavy. [Flamenco–Progressive Instrumental] [rapid nylon-string fingerpicking in 7/8] [golpes interlock with polyrhythmic drums] [rasgueado trades phrases with distorted guitar] [descending tremolo line meets a low hoofbeat riff] [solo climbs, fractures, then falls to one harmonic] [Verse 3] History never names itself When it first comes through the rain, It looks like someone’s frightened cousin, Looks like blood beneath a stain. Kings may travel dressed as beggars, Heroes limp and monsters tire, Every legend starts as someone Asking shelter near the fire. Men remember crowns and battles, Songs preserve the shining names, I remember who sat trembling, And who stayed when danger came. [Pre-Chorus 3] Tonight the road has changed its breathing, Every hoofbeat carries weight, Something vast has crossed the boundary, And the dark has learned to wait. [Bridge] [tempo drops into spacious 6/8] [nylon-string tremolo over low distorted drone] Some left swearing they’d return here, Some returned without a word, Some became the kind of stories They once laughed at when they heard. Tomorrow men may name this evening, Choose the heroes, shape the end, Tonight the great wheel turns unnoticed While one stranger warns a friend. [Final Chorus] At the Green Dragon, Where the long roads meet, Every stranger leaves a story, Every story leaves some heat. At the Green Dragon, Keep the lantern steady, Let the frightened find a table, Let the watchful stand ready. At the Green Dragon, Small light against the weather, When the world arrives in whispers, We will hear it all together. [Outro] [full band falls away] [nylon-string guitar returns alone] The benches have gone quiet. The last voice has withdrawn. One horse moves beyond the hedgerow, Then another farther on. [spoken in rough vocal fry] I leave the lantern burning. [final unresolved chord]
