Скачать или смотреть The Gilded Groat. Baroque Jazz Progressive Rock

(Verse 1)
In the hall of the merchant, the candles burn low
The lace on his cuff is a dusting of snow
He counts out his silver with a rhythm so cold
While the flute in the rafters turns iron to gold.
A step to the left, and a bow to the floor
But the shadows are dancing toward the back door.

(Verse 2)
The Bishop is drinking, the wine’s running red
He’s forgotten the Latin and the prayers that he said
For the tune is a pagan, a traveler’s tongue
With a scent of the heather and the songs never sung.
It’s a Bach-heavy rhythm, a cellar-deep swing
Where the beggar is silent and the flute is the king.

(Bridge)
Spin the wheel, watch the thread
The living are dancing to wake up the dead.
Spin the wheel, lose the light
The sun is a memory, we’re children of night.

(Outro)
Heigh-ho, the Gilded Groat!
Heigh-ho, the dusty coat!