play me a song, Old Fiddlin’ Joe,
play it sultry with soul,
play it oh so slow,
make it sing, make it cry,
for i’ve nowhere to go
and i don’t know why.
for nickels and dimes,
back in those lean, hard times,
you’d play the old tunes
and a few of the new,
you’d even at times,
dance the ol’ soft shoe
jus’ before eight, early each day,
you’d set up your chair, ready to play,
you’d open your case, and tighten your bow,
then serenade all with your fiddlin’ show.
with your dusty, brown coat, your scuffed up shoes,
you’d come to the streets to bring us the news,
that in the hurtin’, the losin’ , the heart-breakin’ sad,
you can still find some good in the midst of the bad.
so play me a song, old fiddlin’ friend,
play it with soul, play it through to the end,
tell us the stories of the wonders we’ve seen,
of the people we’ve loved, and the places we’ve been,
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