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Well if this old fiddle could talk |
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If this old fiddle could sing |
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Man if this old fiddle could only talk |
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It could tell you some wondrous things |
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Talk to me fiddle |
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Tell me about when you came across the sea |
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In the hands of a Jewish immigrant who was longing to be free |
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And you were part of his life for forty years |
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Through times both lean and fat |
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As he raised his family and lived out his days |
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In a New York tenement flat |
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Talk to me fiddle |
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Tell me about how that Cajun fiddlin' man |
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Found you in a pawn shop and took you back down |
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To the Louisiana bayou land |
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You knew his wife and you knew his kids |
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And you watched his family grow |
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And you played your heart out Cajun style |
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At the Louisiana Fais Do Do |
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Well talk to me fiddle |
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Then a big shot Yankee gambler found you down in New Orleans |
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And took you up the river on the Mississippi Queen |
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Then there came the day that you were all |
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That he had left to lose |
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And a black man won you in a poker game |
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And taught you how to play the blues |
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Cry for me fiddle |
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The a young man from the mountains of Kentucky came along |
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And he bought you for a dollar |
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And took you all the way back home |
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He gave you to his grandpa on his golden wedding day |
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And the people would come from miles around just to hear the old man play |
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Dance for me fiddle |
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Then a hobo from Biloxi found you living in the rain |
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And he got himself a free ride on a west-bound cattle train |
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And you got off in Texas |
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Where they play that western swing |
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Where the people do the two-step |
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And old Bob Wills was the king |
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Swing for me fiddle |
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If this old fiddle could talk |
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If this old fiddle could sing |
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Man if this old fiddle could only talk |
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It could tell you some wondrous things |
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You've been bouncing around America from sea to shining sea |
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Now your traveling days are over fiddle 'cause you belong to me |