Give the fiddler a dollar when the band they won’t play your tune

With words un-adorning, surely as the morning

sparrows will be warbling for you To come and lay me on down

When I was much younger the girls in the Dancehall seemed fair

There were warm summer evenings full of passion and feeling and rhyme without reason or cares

They’d come and lay me on down

Take my last silver dollar when the organ she’s finally through

And may the words of your fortune come without warning

gently as the morning’s soft dew

When they come and they lay me on down