The folk singer sings his songs by the well

A little varnish on the truth helps spin the tale

The point of the story is what is needed to hear

And if a little magic is added it keeps the crowd near

A little varnish adds a little shellac to the velvety voice

That keeps the minstrel as a favorite afternoon choice

He sings us all the songs that we long to hear

Keeping us in good spirit with his voice and his cheer

The simpler truths are often less than we’d wish

So he adds a little varnish like a priest at a parish

He’ll sing you a love song to mend your broken heart

With promises of forever with every intention to depart

He’ll tell you of life so sweet when you’re living the sour

Weaving his stories that give you rest and hope at least for an hour