He hasn't a cent to his name no room to come in from the rain but he
laughs and he sings and what happiness he brings the minstrel of
cranberry lane
Sometimes he's hungry and cold his clothes are a sight to behold but
he's gentle and mild and he sings to each child the minstrel of
cranberry lane
Then one foggy night the neighbors met in a meeting place down in the
lane and they said this old man for our children is bad why! he even
sings in the rain
So they issued a summons the minstrel must go but they reckoned
without his appeal for he sang of the gold at the rainbow's end and
dreams only children can feel
And so in the night while the town was asleep he sang his songs around
the lane and the children crept out of their beds in the night and
they followed the minstrel away
Now much sadder but wiser i fear are the ones who lost children so
dear for each child must be free to follow like me the minstrel of
cranberry lane
