Fiddle About
Uncle ernie:
Uncle ernie:
Im your wicked uncle ernie
Im your wicked uncle ernie
Im glad you wont see or hear me
Im glad you wont see or hear me
As I fiddle about
As I fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
Your mother left me here to mind you
Your mother left me here to mind you
Now Im doing what I want to
Now Im doing what I want to
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddle about!
Fiddle about!
Down with the bedclothes
Down with the bedclothes
Up with the nightshirt!
Up with the nightshirt!
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
You wont shout as I fiddle about
You wont shout as I fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.
Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Itching Heels
FU' de peace o' my eachin' heels, set down;
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo'.
Don' you see how dat melody stuhs me up
An' baigs me to tek to de flo'?
You knows I's a Christian, good an' strong;
I wusship f'om June to June;
My pra'ahs dey ah loud an' my hymns ah long:
I baig you don' fiddle dat chune.
I's a crick in my back an' a misery hyeah
Whaih de j'ints's gittin' ol' an' stiff,
But hit seems lak you brings me de bref o' my youf;
W'y, I's suttain I noticed a w'iff.
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo', my chile,
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo';
I'll git up an' taih up dis groun' fu' a mile,
An' den I'll be chu'ched fu' it, sho'.
Oh, fiddle dat chune some mo', I say,
An' fiddle it loud an' fas':
I's a youngstah ergin in de mi'st o' my sin;
De p'esent's gone back to de pas'.
I'll dance to dat chune, so des fiddle erway;
I knows how de backslidah feels;
So fiddle it on 'twell de break o' de day
Fu' de sake o' my eachin' heels.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Vanessa Mae
after the fiddle in the wildest harmonies
of your classical violin
please come to my room and fiddle
the best of all the best songs
the base, the tip of my top, the
giggle of the gigs inside my
underwear, there is this fire
that damns me to an eternal longing
this madness not anymore bound
to a second fiddle. play me, please.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dum Dum Diddle
I can hear how you work, practising hard
Playing night and day, woah-oh
And it sounds better now
Yes, you improve every time you play, woah-oh
But its bad
Youre so sad
And youre only smiling
When you play your violin
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
To be so near you and not just hear you
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
I think then maybe youd see me, baby
Youd be mine
And wed be together all the time
Wish I was, dum-dum-diddle, your darling fiddle
But I think you dont know that I exist
Im the quiet kind, woah-oh
From the day when I first listened to you
Youve been on my mind, woah-oh
You dont care
Its not fair
And youre only smiling
When you play your violin
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
To be so near you and not just hear you
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
I think then maybe youd see me, baby
Youd be mine
And wed be together all the time
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
To be so near you and not just hear you
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
I think then maybe youd see me, baby
Youd be mine
And wed be together all the time
Wish I was, dum-dum-diddle, your darling fiddle
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Time Fiddle
(Vince Gill / Leslie Satcher)
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Play an old time fiddle song
I might even drink just a little
If you play Little Jolie Blon
If you're lookin' or me
I'm liable to be
In the middle of the ol' dance floor
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
First Chorus:
I wanna throw down on a hoe down
Hanging with the people I know
Hear the sweet sound
Of a breakdown
When you put a little rosin on the bow
Y'all come on over when the sun goes down
Bang on the ol' screen door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
I miss ol' Herman Stover
Playin' Listen To The Mockingbird
It was Piedmont, Oklahoma
It was the sweetest sound I ever heard
Skinny ol' man in a cowboy band
You could barely get the people in the door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
Second Chorus:
I wanna throw down on a hoe down
Hanging with the people I know
Hear the sweet sound
Of a breakdown
When you put a little rosin on the bow
Play diggy diggy li
Diggy diggy lo
The a little Cotten-Eyed Joe
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
First chorus:
Y'all come on over when the sun goes down
Bang on the ol' screen door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore...
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fiddle-Dee-Dee
There once was a bird that lived up in a tree,
And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee" -
A very provoking, unmusical song
For one to be whistling the summer day long!
Yet always contented and busy was he
With that vocal recurrence of "Fiddle-dee-dee."
Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four,
That weird iteration repented him sore;
"I prithee, Dear-Mother-Mine! fetch me my gun,
For, by our St. Didy! the deed must be done
That shall presently rid all creation and me
Of that ominous bird and his 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"
Then out came Dear-Mother-Mine, bringing her son
His awfully truculent little red gun;
The stock was of pine and the barrel of tin,
The "bang" it came out where the bullet went in -
The right kind of weapon I think you'll agree
For slaying all fowl that go "Fiddle-dee-dee"!
The brave little soldier quoth never a word,
But he up and he drew a straight bead on that bird;
And, while that vain creature provokingly sang,
The gun it went off with a terrible bang!
Then loud laughed the youth - "By my Bottle," cried he,
I've put a quietus on 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"
Out came then Dear-Mother-Mine, saying: "My son,
Right well have you wrought with your little red gun!
Hereafter no evil at all need I fear,
With such a brave soldier as You-My-Love here!"
She kissed the dear boy.
(The bird in the tree
Continued to whistle his "Fiddle-dee-dee")
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sit And Fiddle With This
You're getting out of my life.
And not for one specific reason.
I think we both know it is clear,
The end is very near.
And,
You're out of my life.
To drift your fits to faddish reasons.
You're getting out of my life.
And not for one specific reason.
I think we both know it is clear,
The end is very near.
And,
You're out of my life.
To drift your fits to faddish reasons.
Go go...
And build yourself a kite.
Double up the string on it and hold on real tight.
Go go...
And do that which you like.
There's no need to argue, fuss or cuss to fight.
Go go...
And build yourself a kite,
'Cause...
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.
Go go...
And do that which you like.
'Cause...
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.
You're getting out of my life.
And not for one specific reason.
I think we both know it is clear,
The end is very near.
And,
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.
Go go...
And build yourself a kite,
'Cause...
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.
Go go...
And do that which you like.
'Cause...
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fiddle And The Crowd
WHEN the day was at its middle,
Tired of limb and slow of pace,
Came a fiddler with his fiddle
To a crowded market place;
Lying, cheating, boasting, bragging,
Men and women walked together;
Heads were nodding, tongues were wagging,
Talk there was of trade and weather,
Talk there was of man's enslavement
To the tyrants, Toil and Worry;
Yet the fiddle on the pavement
Minding not the noise and hurry,
Singing low and singing loud —
Spoke its message to the crowd.
Said the fiddle —
'Pause and listen;
Can't you hear the waters running
Down the mossy mountain valleys?
Don't you see the lyre-bird sunning
Glossy plumes in fronded alleys?
Life is glory, life is glamour!'
Said the fiddle
In the middle
Of the tumult and the clamour.
Though unheeded seemed the fiddle,
Bidding each and all rejoice,
When the day was at its middle —
Yet beneath its magic voice,
Laughing, sobbing, teasing, fretting,
Men and women met together,
Smiled to find themselves forgetting
Troublous thoughts of trade and weather;
One bethought him of a cavern
Cool and sweet with running water,
And another of a tavern
And a tavern-keeper's daughter —
Ale to drink and lips to kiss —
'Twas the fiddle did all this!
Said the fiddle —
'Hush and hearken
To the song that I am singing,
For it is a song entrancing.
Telling now of gladness ringing,
Telling now of children dancing;
Life is music, life is glamour.'
Said the fiddle
In the middle
Of the tumult and the clamour.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is A Wheel Inside My Head
There is a wheel inside my head
Of wantonness and wine,
An old, cracked fiddle is begging without,
But the wind with scents of the sea is fed,
And the sun seems glad to shine.
The sun and the wind are akin to you,
As you are akin to June.
But the fiddle! . . . It giggles and twitters about,
And, love and laughter! who gave him the cue? -
He's playing your favourite tune.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Violin
Four strings across the bridge,
Ready to carry me over,
Over the quavers, drunk in the bars,
Out of the realm of the orchestra,
Out of the realm of the orchestra.
Filling me up with the shivers.
Filling me up with the shivers and quivers.
Filling me up with the shivers.
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Paganini up on the chimney,
Lord of the dance,
With nero and old nicky.
Whack that devil
Into my fiddlestick!
Give me the banshees for b.v.s,*
Give me the banshees for b.v.s.
Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-dee.
Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-diddle-dee-dee!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Pen
Oh, the people would come from far and away,
They'd dance all night 'till the break of day,
When the caller would holler "Do-si-do,"
You knew Uncle Pen was ready to go.
Late in the evening about sun down,
High on the hill and above the town,
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, lord a how it'd ring,
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing.
Oh, he played an old piece he called Soldier's Joy,
And he had one he called Boston Boy,
The greatest of all was Ginny Lyn,
To me that's where the fiddlin begin.
(chorus)
Oh, I'll never forget that mournful day,
When Uncle Pen was called away,
They hung up his fiddle, they hung up his bow,
You knew it was time for him to go.
(chorus)
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Devil Went Down To Georgia
***************************************
Primus - The Devil Went Down To Georgia
***************************************
The devil went down to Georgia
He was lookin' for a soul to steal
He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind
And he was willing to make a deal
When he came across this young man
Sawing on a fiddle and playing it hot
And the devil jumped up on a hickory stump
And said, "Boy let me tell you what
"I guess you didn't know it
But I'm a fiddle player too
And if you'd care to take a dare
I'll make a bet with you"
"Now you play pretty good fiddle, son
But give the devil his due
I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul
'Cause I think I'm better than you"
The boy said "My name's Johnny
And it might be a sin
But I'll take your bet and you're gonna regret
'Cause I'm the best that's ever been"
Johhny you resin up your bow
And play your fiddle hard
'Cause Hell's broke loose in Georgia
And the devil deals the cards
And if you win
You get this shiny fiddle made of gold
But if you lose
The devil gets your soul
The devil openned up his case
And he said "I'll start this show"
And fire flew from his fingertips
As he resined up his bow
And he pulled the bow across the strings
And it made an evil hiss
Then a band of demons joined in
And it sounded something like this
When the devil finished Johnny said
"Well you're pretty good, old son
But sit down in that chair right there
And let me show you how its done"
{Refrain}
Fire on the mountain, run boys run
The devil's in the house of the rising sun
Chicken in the bread pan pickin' out dough
Granny does your dog bite, no child no
The devil bowed his head
Because he knew that he'd been beat
And he laid that golden fiddle
On the ground at Johnny's feet
Johnny said "Devil, just come on back
If you ever want to try again
But I told you once, you son of a bitch
I'm the best that's ever been"
He played
Fire on the mountain, run boys run
The devil's in the house of the rising sun
Chicken in the bread pan pickin' out dough
Granny does your dog bite, no child no
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Recruit's Ball
Fiddler loquitur
Heigho, fiddlestick, fiddlestick, fiddlestick,
Heigho, fiddlestick, fiddle for a king!
Heigh, pretty Kitty! heigh, jolly Polly!
Up with the heels, girls! fling, lasses, fling!
Heigh there! stay there! that's not the way there!
Oh Johnny, Johnny,
Oh Johnny, Johnny,
Ho, ho, everybody all round the ring!
Heigho, fiddlestick, fiddlestick, fiddlestick,
Heigho, fiddlestick, fiddle for a king!
Heigh, pretty Kitty! heigh, jolly Polly!
Up with the heels, girls! swing, girls, swing!
Foot, boys! foot, boys! to 't, boys! do 't, boys!
Ho, Bill! ho, Jill! ho, Will! ho, Phil!
Ho, Johnny, Johnny,
Ho, Johnny, Johnny,
Ho, ho, everybody, all round the ring!
Deuce take the fiddle,
Deuce take the fiddle,
Deuce take the jolly fiddle, deuce take the fiddler!
Here goes the fiddle,
Here goes the fiddle,
Here goes the jolly fiddle, here goes the fiddler!
Ned, boy! your head, boy!
She'll strike you dead, boy!
There she goes at your nose!
Deuce strike you dead, boy!
Call, boys! bawl, boys!
Deuce take us all, boys!
Here we go, yes or no,
Deuce take us all, boys!
Deuce take the wall, boys,
Deuce take the floor, boys,
Deuce take the jolly floor,
Deuce take us all, boys!
There goes the wall, boys!
There goes the door, boys!
Round they swing in a ring!
There goes the floor, boys!
Lad, wench, roof, floor,
Wench, lad, wall, door!
Curse the ground, spin it round!
Deuce take us all, boys!
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To See Life As A Riddle
Life,
Is what we make it.
But some will sit,
To see life as a riddle.
And life...
Some choose to fake it.
With a doing that's believed,
They can be freed of mistakes.
Yet life,
Is what we make it.
But some will sit,
To see life as a riddle.
Some people have a need,
To play life second fiddle.
Out of tune,
And afraid of taking risks.
Some people live,
Afraid of taking chances...
With dismissing most of it!
Yet life,
Is what we make it.
But some will sit,
As if it is a riddle.
Life,
Is what we make it.
Yet some will sit,
Just to play it second fiddle.
And some will see life,
With no middle but a riddle.
Yes some will sit,
Just to play life second fiddle.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fiddler Jones
The earth keeps some vibration going
There in your heart, and that is you.
And if the people find you can fiddle,
Why, fiddle you must, for all your life.
What do you see, a harvest of clover?
Or a meadow to walk through to the river?
The wind's in the corn; you rub your hands
For beeves hereafter ready for market;
Or else you hear the rustle of skirts
Like the girls when dancing at Little Grove.
To Cooney Potter a pillar of dust
Or whirling leaves meant ruinous drouth;
They looked to me like Red-Head Sammy
Stepping it off to 'Toor-a-Loor.'
How could I till my forty acres
Not to speak of getting more,
With a medley of horns, bassoons and piccolos
Stirred in my brain by crows and robins
And the creak of a wind-mill--only these?
And I never started to plow in my life
That some one did not stop in the road
And take me away to a dance or picnic.
I ended up with forty acres;
I ended up with a broken fiddle--
And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories,
And not a single regret.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Ive Been Working On The Railroad
This song was first released on the all aboard! album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Ive been working on the railroad
All the live long day
Ive been working on the railroad
Just to pass the time away
Cant you hear the whistle blowing
Rise up so early in the morn
Cant you hear the whistle blowing
Dinah, blow your horn
Dinah wont you blow
Dinah wont you blow
Dinah, wont you blow your horn
Dinah, wont you blow,
Dinah, wont you blow,
Dinah, wont you blow your horn
Someones in the kitchen with dinah
Someones in the kitchen I know
Someones in the kitchen with dinah
Strumming on the old banjo
Fee fie fiddle eell o
Fee fie fiddle eell o
Fee fie fiddle eell o
Strumming on the old banjo
Traditional
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dont Cuss The Fiddle
I scandalized my brother
While admittin that he sang some pretty songs (and he did)
Id heard that hed been scandalizing me
And, lord, I knew that that was wrong (and I was)
Now Im lookin at it over
Something cool and feelin fool enough to see
What I had called my brother on
Now he had every right to call on me
Chorus:
Dont ever cuss that fiddle, boy
Unless you want that fiddle out of tune
That picker there in trouble, boy
Aint nothin but another side of you
If we ever get to heaven, boys
It aint because we aint done nothin wrong
Were in this gig together
So lets settle down and steal each others songs
I found a wounded brother
Drinkin bitterly away the afternoon
And soon enough he turned on me
Like hed done every face in that saloon
Well, we cussed him to the ground
And said he couldnt even steal a decent song
But soon as it was spoken
We was sad enough to wish that we were wrong
Chorus:
Dont ever cuss that fiddle, boy
Unless you want that fiddle out of tune
That picker there in trouble, boy
Aint nothin but another side of you
If we ever get to heaven, boys
It aint because we aint done nothin wrong
Were in this gig together
So lets settle down and steal each others songs
Tag:
I know that it sounds silly
But I think that I just stole somebodys song
Don williams ? williams - hank williams ? harlan ?
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Corn-Stalk Fiddle
WHEN the corn's all cut and the bright stalks shine
Like the burnished spears of a field of gold;
When the field-mice rich on the nubbins dine,
And the frost comes white and the wind blows cold;
Then it's heigh-ho! fellows and hi-diddle-diddle,
For the time is ripe for the corn-stalk fiddle.
And when you take a stalk that is straight and long,
With an expert eye to its worthy points,
And you think of the bubbling strains of song
That are bound between its pithy joints —
Then you cut out strings, with a bridge in the middle,
With a corn-stalk bow for a corn-stalk fiddle.
Then the strains that grow as you draw the bow
O'er the yielding strings with a practiced hand!
And the music's flow never loud but low
Is the concert note of a fairy band.
Oh, your dainty songs are a misty riddle
To the simple sweets of a corn-stalk fiddle.
When the eve comes on, and our work is done,
And the sun drops down with a tender glance,
With their hearts all prime for the harmless fun,
Come the neighbor girls for the evening's dance,
And they wait for the well-known twist and twiddle —
More time than tune — from the corn-stalk fiddle.
Then brother Jabez takes the bow,
While Ned stands off with Susan Bland,
Then Henry stops by Milly Snow,
And John takes Nellie Jones's hand,
While I pair off with Mandy Biddle,
And scrape, scrape, scrape goes the corn-stalk fiddle.
'Salute your partners,' comes the call,
'All join hands and circle round,'
'Grand train back,' and 'Balance all,'
Footsteps lightly spurn the ground.
'Take your lady and balance down the middle'
To the merry strains of the corn-stalk fiddle.
So the night goes on and the dance is o'er,
And the merry girls are homeward gone,
But I see it all in my sleep once more,
And I dream till the very break of dawn
Of an impish dance on a red-hot griddle
To the screech and scrape of a corn-stalk fiddle.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blind Jack
I had fiddled all day at the county fair.
But driving home "Butch" Weldy and Jack McGuire,
Who were roaring full, made me fiddle and fiddle
To the song of Susie Skinner, while whipping the horses
Till they ran away.
Blind as I was, I tried to get out
As the carriage fell in the ditch,
And was caught in the wheels and killed.
There's a blind man here with a brow
As big and white as a cloud.
And all we fiddlers, from highest to lowest,
Writers of music and tellers of stories
Sit at his feet,
And hear him sing of the fall of Troy.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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At the Railway Station, Upways
'There is not much that I can do,
For I've no money that's quite my own!'
Spoke up the pitying child--
A little boy with a violin
At the station before the train came in,--
'But I can play my fiddle to you,
And a nice one 'tis, and good in tone!'
The man in the handcuffs smiled;
The constable looked, and he smiled too,
As the fiddle began to twang;
And the man in the handcuffs suddenly sang
With grimful glee:
'This life so free
Is the thing for me!'
And the constable smiled, and said no word,
As if unconscious of what he heard;
And so they went on till the train came in--
The convict, and boy with the violin.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Thank God Im A Country Boy
This song appears on thirteen albums, and was first released on the back home again album. it has also been released on the greatest hits vol 2, favourites, voice of america, the rocky mountain
Ction, the country roads collection and changes albums. it has been recorded for the love again album. live versions appear on the an evening with john denver, live in london, country classics,
Ery best of john denver (double cd) and live at the syney opera house albums.
Well life on the farm is kinda laid back
Aint much an old country boy like me cant hack
Its early to rise, early in the sack
Thank God Im a country boy
Well a simple kinda life never did me no harm
A raisin me a family and workin on a farm
My days are all filled with an easy country charm
Thank God Im a country boy
Well I got me a fine wife I got me a fiddle
When the suns comin up I got cakes on the griddle
Life aint nothin but a funy funny riddle
Thank God Im a country boy
When the works all done and the suns settlin low
I pull out my fiddle and I rosin up the bow
The kids are asleep so I keep it kinda low
Thank God Im a country boy
Id play sally goodin all day if I could
But the lord and my wife wouldnt take it very good
So I fiddle when I could, work when I should
Thank God Im a country boy
Well I got me a fine wife I got me a fiddle
When the suns comin up I got cakes on the griddle
Life aint nothin but a funy funny riddle
Thank God Im a country boy
Well I wouldnt trade my life for diamonds and jewels
I never was one of them money hungry fools
Iid rather have my fiddle and my farmin tools
Thank God Im a country boy
Yeah, city folk drivin in a black limousine
A lotta sad people thinkin thats mighty keen
Son, let me tell ya now exactly what I mean
Thank God Im a country boy
Well I got me a fine wife I got me a fiddle
When the suns comin up I got cakes on the griddle
Life aint nothin but a funy funny riddle
Thank God Im a country boy
Well, my fiddle was my daddys till the day he died
And he took me by the hand and held me close to his side
Said, live a good life and play my fiddle with pride
And thank God youre a country boy
My daddy taught me young how to hunt and how to whittle
Taught me how to work and play a tune on the fiddle
Taught me how to love and how to give just a little
Thank God Im a country boy
Well I got me a fine wife I got me a fiddle
When the suns comin up I got cakes on the griddle
Life aint nothin but a funy funny riddle
Thank God Im a country boy
Thank God Im a country boy
Words and music by john martin sommers
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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