Related quotes
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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The Fiddler
There's a fiddler in the street,
And the children all are dancing:
Two dozen lightsome feet
Springing and prancing.
Pleasure he gives to you,
Dance then, and spare not!
For the poor fiddler's due,
Know not and care not.
While you are prancing,
Let the fiddler play.
When you're tired of dancing
He may go away.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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
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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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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
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The Fiddler Of Dooney
WHEN I play on my fiddle in Dooney.
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Mocharabuiee.
I passed my brother and cousin:
They read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.
When we come at the end of time
To Peter sitting in state,
He will smile on the three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;
For the good are always the merry,
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle,
And the merry love to dance:
And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With "Here is the fiddler of Dooney!"
And dance like a wave of the sea.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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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
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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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Sights
I saw a singer singing to a crowd,-
Singing of laughing life,- and all the while
He sang in tones so shrilly loud,
Not one man had a smile.
I saw a fiddler from a broken plain
Playing his weeping fiddle,- sweet and clear.
He sang of Death and Cries and Pain,-
But no one shed a tear.
I saw a whistling soldier, still and wan,
Firing his rifle from a fearful place,-
But all the time a dying man
Looked long upon his face.
poem by Leon Gellert
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The House Beside The Road
The house beside the road,
Where people lived
And children played,
Is empty now
And falling down.
The echos of happy feet
Are heard now,
Tapping to the sound
Of Poppy's fiddle,
But the house beside the road
Is empty.
When a gentle voice
Is heard in the house,
It's only a singing breeze
Sifting itself through
The cracks in the roof of
The house beside the road.
poem by Scarlett Treat
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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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Kitty Reid's House
Air - 'Country Bumpkin.'
Hech! hey! the mirth that was there,
The mirth that was there,
The mirth that was there;
Hech! how! the mirth that was there,
In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo.
There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee
In Kitty Reid's house, in Kitty Reid's house,
There was laughin' and singin', an' dancin' and glee,
In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo.
Hech! hey! the fright that was there,
The fright that was there,
The fright that was there,
Hech! how! the fright that was there,
In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo.
The light glimmer'd in thro' a crack i' the wa',
An' a' body thocht the lift it would fa',
An' lads and lasses they soon ran awa'
Frae Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo.
Hech! hey! the dule that was there,
The dule that was there,
The dule that was there,
The birds an' beasts it wauken'd them a',
In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo.
The wa' gaed a hurly and scatter'd them a',
The piper, the fiddler, auld Kitty, an' a',
The kye fell a routin', the cocks they did craw,
In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo.
poem by Carolina Oliphant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Double Ballad Of Life And Death
Fools may pine, and sots may swill,
Cynics gibe, and prophets rail,
Moralists may scourge and drill,
Preachers prose, and fainthearts quail.
Let them whine, or threat, or wail!
Till the touch of Circumstance
Down to darkness sink the scale,
Fate’s a fiddler, Life’s a dance.
What if skies be wan and chill?
What if winds be harsh and stale?
Presently the east will thrill,
And the sad and shrunken sail
Bellying with a kindly gale,
Bear you sunwards, while your chance
Sends you back the hopeful hail: -
‘Fate’s a fiddler, Life’s a dance.’
Idle shot or coming bill,
Hapless love or broken bail,
Gulp it (never chew your pill!)
And if Burgundy should fail,
Try the humbler pot of ail!
Over all is heaven’s expanse.
Gold’s to find among the shale,
Fate’s a fiddler, Life’s a dance.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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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
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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
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The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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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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