The Minstrel of the Dawn is here, to make you laugh and bend your ear.
Up the steps you'll hear him climb, all full of thoughts, all full of rhymes.
Listen to the pictures flow, across the room into your mind they go.
Listen to the strings they jangle and dangle while the old guitar rings.
A Minstrel of the Dawn is he, not too wise, but oh so free.
He'll talk of life out on the street, he'll play it sad, he'll play it sweet.
Look into his shining face, of lonliness you'll always find a trace.
Just like me and you, he's trying to get into things more happy than blue.
{ guitar solo }
Minstrel of the changing tide, he'll ask for nothing but his pride.
Just sit him down upon that chair, fetch some wine and set it there.
Listen to the pictures flow, follow the fingers where they go.
Listen to the strings, they jangle and dangle while the old guitar rings.
A Minstrel of the Dawn is near, just like a `step and fetchet' here.
He's like an old time troubadour, wanting life and nothing more.
Look into his shining eyes and if you see a ghost don't be surprised.
Just like me and you, he's trying to get into things more happy than blue.
The minstrel boy will understand, he holds the promise in his hand.
He talks of better days ahead, and by his words your fortune's read.
Listen to the pictures flow, follow the fingers where they go.
Listen to the strings, they jangle and dangle while the old guitar rings.