Читать книгу Calculated Entropy - Maniacal Mel - Страница 15
ОглавлениеDead Fiddler
Rumor used to have it
He was on the lam
But you could see him every morning
Fiddle in hand
Didn’t look like much
But he played the fiddler insane
Used to hang out on the corner
Of 7th and Main
Where his bow hand
Made him the wrong kind of friends
Dead fiddler
Oh dead fiddler
’Long about twilight
On one rainy day
His hat was heard to jingle
From a block away
Had the golden touch
On that day it had seemed
But how was he to know
While his fiddle screamed
He’d soon join it
In a black back alley dream
Dear Fiddler
Oh dead fiddler
Down the street he fled
Feet now made of lead
Past the dumpster on the right
Where crouching out of sight...
Hiding in wait like birds of prey
They fed him to the dying day
Rumor used to have it
He was on the lam
But you could see him every morning
Fiddle in hand
Didn’t look like much
But he played the fiddler insane
Used to hang out on the corner
Of 7th and Main
Where nearby were found
Alley walls rosin-stained
Dead fiddler
Oh dead fiddler
