Verse 1

I came through the gate with a map in my sleeve,

Past the cooks and the guards who were slow to believe.

Silk banners stirred where the cold hallways turned,

I asked for a place by the fire, not a throne to be earned.

Chorus

I’m a traveler passing through the king’s old hall,

With dust on my boots and no name on the wall.

Let the candles burn low, let the long night roll,

I’ll be gone by the morning with a tale in my coat.

Verse 2

The steward poured tea in a chipped porcelain cup,

A page took my compass and turned it upside up.

I spoke of the roads where the river stones shine,

They traded their secrets; I traded them mine.

Chorus

I’m a traveler passing through the king’s old hall,