Fiddle On the Wall

A fiddle on the wall ain’t been played at all
in forty years
I tried a time or two was the wrong thing to do
It hurt my ears
Folks said, «Put it back. You can’t play like Uncle Jack.
He was the best»
Uncle Jack’s gone asunder he’s six feet under
and laid to rest
Uncle Jack was a fiddle playing man
Playing old time music of this land
We could still hear his unique sound
If Uncle Jack hadn’t fiddled around
Uncle Jack would go to the next fiddle show
and play all night
It wasn’t Jack’s winnin' but his eye for the women
would start a fight
Uncle Jack took his place with a grin on his face
He began to play
Then a shot rang out there ain’t no doubt
Was his last day
Well, I declare that old fiddle is still there
I’d like to play
But I think I’ll go and learn the ol' banjo
for another day
We can’t bring back our poor old Uncle Jack
That ain’t our call
Life is a riddle with Uncle Jack’s fiddle
on the wall