A fairytale brought back to life,
beyond the reach of worldly strife.
Where oaths of noble knights were sworn,
and myths and legends once were born.
A stranger land of pristine air,
of rolling hills and people, fair.
They feast upon the bread of kings,
and drink the host September brings.
Though serious and lacking cheer,
kind folk call pleasant home to here.
Their quaint and rather charming ways,
give life to luring summer days.
Above the whitewashed village tones,
on mountaintops, sit ancient thrones.
In halls of paved and precious gold,
still linger on, the tales of old.
Gone are great Bavarian lords,
who carved their names with treasured hordes.
Their monument to glory sings,
come marvel at the realm of kings.