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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Fixer was called, summoned by song He hears the plea and finishes his mead He heads to the barn loads up the cart Feeds the horses and calls to his wife She readily makes a meal,to get thru the night For he is the fixer, he fixes all things An relentless skill, without any end His lute In hand , a kiss on the cheek Cloak wrapped around, I wont be more than a week Sun setting and the wind starts to howl The horse picks the pace and pulls out of town Picking the lute with an old familiar sound For he is the fixer, he fixes all things A relentless skill, without any end Lanterns are fixed in the such a way The silky black horses can see like its day Fast asleep the fixer dreams thru the night The path recognized no need to guide The first stop they make will be at daylight For he is the fixer, he fixes all things A relentless skill, without any end As he reached the first town, tool in hand He rides by the stone huts, families broken,and frowned He picks the right notes and begins to sing The hooves from the horse a nice melody This town has been fixed,no time to waste For he is the fixer , he fixes all things A relentless skill, without any end He been fixing these towns, of kinship and friends And feels his days of fixing are nearing an end As he ponders his mends on his way back home Fast falling asleep, could anyone could fix ...Him For He was the fixer, he fixed all things A relentless skill, who has come to his end
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