Raise a Round for Geo

Raise a round for Geo, brave and kind, A bed, a brew, a place to find! For friend and fool, for sword and song, At Geo’s hearth, we all belong! From battle’s field and roadways torn, Through bitter rain and mornings worn, We find the light, the fire’s glow, The open arms of Brother Geo. A crust of bread, a tankard high, A place to rest beneath the sky! Raise a round for Geo, brave and kind, A bed, a brew, a place to find! For friend and fool, for sword and song, At Geo’s hearth, we all belong! The walls are strong, the ale runs deep, The wounded laugh, the broken sleep. The brand we bear upon the hand, Binds us to every inn and land. Through winter’s chill or summer’s flare, At Geo’s hearth, there’s always care! Raise a round for Geo, brave and kind, A bed, a brew, a place to find! For friend and fool, for sword and song, At Geo’s hearth, we all belong! No blood is shed within these walls, No sword is drawn, no anger calls. We share our tales, we mend our scars, We drink beneath the gods and stars. And when we march, through dust and flame, We toast to Geo’s blessed name! Raise a round for Geo, brave and kind, We toast to Geo’s blessed name! Raise a round for Geo, brave and kind, A bed, a brew, a place to find! For friend and fool, for sword and song, At Geo’s hearth, we all belong! And if we fall to pride or wrong, The Bouncer comes, swift and strong. So honor well the bread and bed, For Geo watches o’er the dead. Beware the Bouncer, cold and grim, With gallows swayin’ at the whim. He rides the ox through storm and dust, His axe brings truth, his word is just. No feast he takes, no coin, no bread— He drinks the blood the ox has bled. A hooded judge with eyes that see, What honor is, and what must be. Raise a round for Geo, brave and kind, A bed, a brew, a place to find! For friend and fool, for sword and song, At Geo’s hearth, we all belong! Raise it high, let the tavern ring, For Geo’s gift is everything! A friend in need, a welcome flame, And all who wander bless his name!