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I got a loan of my grandfather's fiddle,
It's unlike anything you've seen before;
The strings are old, the bow is weak,
The bridge is warped, the keys don't keep,
But you should have seen him play that St. Anne's Reel.
I got a loan of my grandfather's fiddle,
It hasn't been played since the day he died;
But now that I've learned how to play,
I can bring back memories of the days.
I can almost make my mother cry,
Put teardrops in my grandmaman's eyes,
Whenever I fiddle out that old St. Anne's Reel.
I'd like to restore my grandfather's fiddle,
By putting new strings tight around new keys;
But I won't restore the physical things,
But only the tunes that the memories bring.
And grandmaman will get that feeling,
When she hears that St. Anne's reeling,
And her and mom will see grandpapa once more.
{Click for the fiddle tune, St. Anne's Reel}
