Tavern of the Old Days

Raise your cups. Boots on boards, they shake and sway. Bagpipes cry like

hills from far away. Twilight flickers on the shields. Old scars,

new lives, the same old tales. Grandfather's chair, now it's our

throne. We stomp in time. We're not alone. In the tavern

of the old days, we're dancing with the ghosts of our own youth.

Hey! Heart to heart in the wild blaze, we remember and

we roar our truth. Raise your voice, let the past play.

Every scar is a banner that we wave. In the tavern of the old