[Intro – spoken softly by the storyteller] Way back in sixty-five, when the war was done but the trouble was not… [Verse 1 – Narrator] Down in Yellville when the bluecoats rode in, Union men from Missouri, huntin’ to win. They torched the mill on the square that day, Her pa fought to save it, but they gunned him away. Young woman grabbed the old shotgun, heart full of flame, Fired buckshot fierce till they turned and they came. Fought like a tiger till the raiders withdrew, From the high ridge above, the Knights watched it through. [Chorus – Full ensemble or storyteller with faint jug hum and banjo roll] Knights of the Golden Circle come callin’ again, checkin’ the stash where the secrets remain. Gold ’neath the graves, marked by their seal, She keeps the promise; her oath is real. Whispers of treasure, buried so true, guarded with shotgun, that’s what she do. [Verse 2 – Narrator] They rode down quiet after the shots rang cold, offered their aid in the gatherin’ gloom. Helped haul her pa up the mountain road, far from the town and the Yankee rule. Carried him gentle to the ridge that grow, dug him a rest where the eagles fly low. [Verse 3 – Narrator] While the earth settled fresh on his grave, they spoke of the Circle and the trust they gave. “She’ll be Granny now, keeper of the flame, we’ll watch from the shadows, remember her name.” She took the oath, fierce and unafraid, the buried treasure where her pa was laid. [Chorus] Knights of the Golden Circle come callin’ again, checkin’ the stash where the secrets remain. Gold ’neath the graves, marked by their seal, She keeps the promise; her oath is real. Whispers of treasure, buried so true, guarded with shotgun, that’s what she do. [Verse 4 – Narrator, 1898] Thirty years on in ninety-eight, Granny rocks slow but fierce and alive. Foot tappin’ time to an old tune in her head, shotgun across her lap, skillet close by the bed. Hoofbeats echo and snap her from memories deep, KGC riders come climbing the steep. [Verse 5 – Narrator] Riders draw near in the evening’s soft light, bring feed for the goats and supplies for the night. Help milk her old cow and mend what’s gone worn, chores shared like kin since the day she was sworn. One lingers longest, hands steady and true, spark in his eyes from her shine and her brew. [Chorus] Knights of the Golden Circle come callin’ again, checkin’ the stash where the secrets remain. Gold ’neath the graves, marked by their seal, She keeps the promise; her oath is real. Whispers of treasure, buried so true, guarded with shotgun, that’s what she do. [Verse 6 – Narrator] They settle a spell on the porch in the dark, pass round the jug for a warm evenin’ spark. Talk turns to news from the world far below, old outlaw tales that the shadows still know. Whispers of railroads and cities that grow, but Granny just listens, her mountain aglow. [Verse 7 – Narrator] Riders prepare for the long ride away, oath held strong at the close of the day. But one hangs his hat, no more trails to roam, spark turned to promise, this mountain his home. Granny’s eyes soften, hand finds his own, together they’ll keep what the Circle has sown. [Final Chorus – Full ensemble, proud and warm, fading gentle with banjo roll and jug hum] Knights of the Golden Circle come callin’ again, checkin’ the stash where the secrets remain. Gold ’neath the graves, marked by their seal, She keeps the promise; her oath is real. Whispers of treasure, buried so true, guarded with shotgun, that’s what she do…
