Come, come closer... Yes, that's it.
Let me tell you a little story, for a tiny bit.
With evening set and bar at work, the old fairies come to lurk.
The old run place is what called "vintage"
And owner is a white beard sage
The kind that makes you drinks all night and keeps the company alright
He listens closely, pays attention
Can tell you stories with perfection
The drinks are served in clay
Old school as far as it may
The guests here have all sorts of looks
From ghosts of the alleys with work
Or foxes and dogs that can shift
The cats and the travelling snakes
For typical human it's more than it takes
To keep the face straight or relaxed
The crowd here is kind that don't wanna be taxed
They play on a flute - the fairies that loot
There's also the minister that waiters rounds
He's handsome and young, but is not how it sounds
As being a certain descendance had granted him youth and ascendance, to keep the appearance for thousands of years
The sort of them monsters that feasts on sad tears
I've been in this bar a few times there myself
And captivating are the drinks stored on top shelf
So, darling, if you come stumbling across this Moss bar
Be sure to pray thanks at the altar and treat all guests, owners and servers with kindness, respect, without orders
May travels be safe to you, dear
May path for you come to be clear