My Old Man

My old man had a rounder's soul
He'd hear an old freight train, then he'd have to go
He came through town back before the war
Didn't even know what it was he was looking for

Carried a tattered bag for his violin
Full of lots of songs of the places he had been
He talked real easy, had a smiling way
But he could pass along to you when his fiddle played

Making people drop their cares and woes
To hum out loud those tunes that his fiddle bowed

His fiddler's eye caught one beauty there
She had that rolling, flowing, glowing kind of hair
Just for her as if she danced alone
He played his favorite songs, the ones he called his own

He played until she was the last to go
Then he stopped and packed his case, said he'd take her home
And all her nights that passed, ah, a child was born
All the years that passed, love would keep them warm

Making people drop their cares and woes
To hum out loud those tunes that his fiddle bowed

Well, the train one morning blew a lonesome sound
As if it sang the blues of what it took from town
All that I recall and said when I was young
Was no one else but her could really sing those songs he sang

Making people drop their cares and woes
To hum out loud those tunes that his fiddle bowed