SPEEL MINSTREEL!

Underneath the harvest moon Where the ancient shadows will play and hide... With a ghostly tune and the devil's pride... "Stranger" whispered all the town Has he come to save us from Satan's hand? Leading them away to a foreign land... Play for me, minstrel, play And take away our sorrows... Play for me, minstrel, play And we'll follow... Hear, listen, can you hear, The haunting melody surrounding you, Weaving a magic spell all around you... Danger hidden in his eyes, We should have seen it from far away, Wearing such a thin disguise in the light of day... He held the answer to our prayers, Yet it was too good to be... Proof before our very eyes, yet we could not see... dwarsfluit: Ian Anderson van... The minstrel in the gallery Looked down upon the smiling faces He met the gazes, observed the spaces Between the old men's cackle He brewed a song of love and hatred Oblique suggestions and he waited He polarized the pumpkin eaters Static humming, panel beaters Freshly day glow'd factory cheaters Salaried and collar scrubbing He titillated men of action Belly warming, hands still rubbing On the parts they never mention He pacified the nappy suffering Infant bleating one line jokers TV documentary makers, overfed and undertakers Sunday paper, backgammon players Family scarred and women haters And he called the band down to the stage And he looked at all the friends he'd made The minstrel in the gallery Looked down upon the smiling faces He met the gazes, observed the spaces In between the old men's cackle And he brewed a song of love and hatred Oblique suggestions and he waited He polarized the pumpkin eaters Static humming panel beaters The minstrel in the gallery Looked down on the rabbit run And he threw away his looking glass Saw his face in everyone, hey He titillated men of action Belly warming, hands still rubbing On the parts they never mention Salaried and collar scrubbing He pacified the nappy suffering Infant bleating one line jokers TV documentary makers Overfed and undertakers Sunday paper backgammon players Family scarred and women haters And then he called the band down to the stage And he looked at all the friends he'd made The minstrel in the gallery Looked down on the rabbit run Then he threw away his looking glass And saw his face in everyone, hey The minstrel in the gallery, yes Looked down upon the smiling faces He met the gazes, yeah The minstrel in the gallery