(Bachman/Cummings) 
A little boy sat crying on the floor 
His daddy won't be coming home no more 
He cannot reason why 
His daddy had to die 
And the Minstrel 
Boy's not singing any more. 
So play violin, play 
Play 'til the night is over 
Music will wash away all your sorrow. 
At seventeen he thought he'd never cry 
And then his angel had to say goodbye 
But living must go on 
To face another dawn 
And the Minstrel 
Boy's not singing any more. 
So play violin, play 
Play 'til the night is over 
Music will wash away all your sorrow. 
A moment later, life was just a dream 
Remembering the things he'd done and seen 
He now can reason why 
He soon will have to die 
And the Minstrel 
Boy's not singing any more. 
And the Minstrel 
Boy's not singing any more.