THE NYROND SONG

(Tune: original)

How well you sing of wandering, with Terra safe behind,
How different when you have no hope, a planet home to find.
Then wandering is a hell that gnaws into your mind.
(CHORUS) That's the way it is for the Nyrond,
         That's the way it is for the Nyrond.

Where we are from we cannot tell, the few who knew are dead.
The only home for each of us is the inside of his head.
We are lost exiles, bewildered and misled.
(CHORUS)

The only weapons that we own, quick tongue and agile brain,
Have taken us cross-multiverse, to hell and back again.
I think the best that could be said is that some of us are sane.
That's the way it is for the Nyrond.

You'll see us fleecing merchants on the grand galactic scale,
Or cooking farmers' tax returns for dry bread and watered ale,
And sometimes, just for the hell of it, we may decide to fail.
(CHORUS)

We take our joy in theatre, deceit and masquerade,
Dishonesty our only art, our pastime and our trade.
Well, how else would you survive in a world you never made?
(CHORUS)

Among the star-shot vastnesses we make our devious way,
Looking for new and richer worlds to rob another day.
We give you dreams and spectacle, and still you grudge us pay?
That's the way it is for the Nyrond.

Oh sing no more of wandering, but let the evening end.
And pray this planet's deities a moment's peace to send.
And whatever may befall, recall me as a friend,
Who told you how it was with the Nyronds,
And think of me sometimes, with the Nyronds.