Johnie’s Place

A folk song. A trip to Lisbon. A hostel named Johnie’s place. He was a storyteller.

My flight landed in Lisbon
I wandered down those cobblestone streets
I gazed upon the city
Wondering where I could rest my feet
And I thought of days of old
Where I left my heart and left my soul
Left my heart and left my soul

Then I saw a lighted doorway
Where Johnie waved and welcomed me
I sat down at his table
He told me stories while we drank our tea
He said, “This will be your home.
Where the door is open and the kettle is full”
The door is open and the kettle is full

His stories gave me fantasies
Disposed of mediocrity
As I was left to drink my tea
With piques of curiosity
As we
Sat in Arthur’s court

With Lancelot and Gwinevere
And all the knights who gathered here
In the realm of Camelot
Where dragons slain
And battles fought in vain
Have we fought in vain?

Arthur died and sailed away
And Camelot was left to stay
In hopes that he’d return again
With all the land rejoicing when
He comes
To take his throne again

All the men laid down the swords
Put an end to all the wars
As Arthur’s voice broke through the breeze
And brought a kingdom to its knees
As I
Sat in Johnie’s Place

Suddenly my stay was over
The night had come and gone too fast
The journey couldn’t last forever
A fleeting memory of a peaceful past
‘Til I return to days of old
Where I left my heart and left my soul
Where the door is open and the kettle is full