I wouldn't believe the story if I told it to myself
	It started on that morning I woke on that rocky shelf
	I stared in wonder at the bag of money next to me
	And tried to piece together some of last night's memory:
	I sat inside the bar playing cards with all the guys
	I won and won, and smiled as I watched their tempers rise
	That little guy across from me put up an awful fight
	But I knew this wasn't going to be that Jack of Diamond's night


	I told that little guy to lay down his final hand
	That's all I can remember before waking in this land
	As I climbed down, the green horizon took me by surprise
	I stared into an olive sun and tried to shade my eyes
	I searched a while in silence for a friend in this strange place
	And then I saw him coming, riding at a frantic pace
	The figure of a horseman with a dust cloud at his heel
	I shouted, and he halted in response to my appeal


	I stared as he dismounted for his clothes seemed strange to me
	It looked as though he'd dressed up as a Shakespeare refugee
	His garments shone with blackness and around them hung a cloak
	He frowned at me and drew a breath, but waited till I spoke
	I said, "Can you please tell me where I am and how I came?"
	He answered, "Funny, I was just about to do the same.
	I thought you were a native and I'm looking for an inn
	So sit and tell your story, I can't wait till you begin."


	I told what I'd remembered and a smile creased his face
	He said, "It's odd we've met so far from your own time and place
	You remind me of my brother, he's a gambler just like you
	But I must be going now for I have many things to do
	Just as he was speaking, black clouds cut across the sky
	The rain came pouring down and the thunder roared on high
	We backed into a little cave I hadn't seen before
	And he offered me a smoke and we both settled on the floor


	We talked a while and waited for the rain to die away
	He told me such strange tales that I didn't know what to say
	Of far-off cities where the laws of physics did not stand
	Of plains and towns and rivers, and of mountains tall and grand
	I smiled quite politely, but I didn't believe a word
	But noticed that he played with the hilt of his silver sword
	As if in reminiscence, an odd character, I knew
	He caught my eye and shrugged as if he thought that I was, too


	The rain died down, the thunder did not rumble quite as hard
	He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single card
	I saw a mountain city with spires green and gold
	And thought I saw it grow and become solid in his hold
	He said, "If you would like to go home I can take you back
	And I can find it easily although there's not a track."
	I said, "No thanks, I've nothing to go back to in my land."
	So he said, "My name is Corwin," and he reached to take my hand


			Music


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