Prologue & Main Title (Tradition)

A fiddler on the roof Sounds crazy, you know But here in our little village of Anatevka You might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof Trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune Without breaking his neck It isn't easy You may ask Why do we stay up there if it's so dangerous? We stay because Anatevka is our home And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word Tradition Tradition, tradition Tradition Tradition, tradition Tradition Because of our traditions We've kept our balance for many, many years Here in Anatevka, we have traditions for everything How to sleep, how to eat, how to work How to wear clothes For instance, we always keep our heads covered And always wear little prayer shawls This shows our constant devotion to God You may ask, "How did this tradition get started?" I'll tell you, "I don't know" But it's a tradition And because of our traditions Every one of us knows who he is And what God expects him to do Who, day and night, must scramble for a living Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers? And who has a right as master of the house To have the final word at home? The papa, the papa Tradition The papa, the papa Tradition Who must know the way to make a proper home A quiet home, a kosher home? Who must raise a family and run the home So papa's free to read the Holy Book? The mama, the mama Tradition The mama, the mama Tradition At three, I started Hebrew school At ten, I learned a trade I hear they picked a bride for me, I hope she's pretty And who does Mama teach To mend and tend and fix Preparing her to marry whoever Papa picks? The daughters, the daughters Tradition The papa, mama, sons, daughters Tradition And in the circle of our little village We've always had our special types For instance, Yente, the matchmaker Reb Nahum, the beggar And most important of all, our beloved Rabbi Rabbi, may I ask you a question? Certainly, Leibish Is there a proper blessing for the Tsar? Blessing for the Tsar? May God bless and keep the Tsar Far away from us Di, di-di, di, di, di-di, di Di, di-di, di, di-di-di-di-di Di, di-di, di, di, di-di, di Di, di-di, di, di-di-di-di-di Then there are the others in our village They make a much bigger circle His Honor, constable His Honor, the priest His Honor, many, many others We don't bother them, and so far, they don't bother us And among ourselves, we always get along perfectly well Of course, there was the time when Itchak sold Avram a horse And told him it was only six years old, when it was really 12 But now, it's all over, and everything is peaceful again It was 12 years old It was six Tradition, tradition Tradition Tradition, tradition Tradition Traditions, Traditions Without our tradition, our lives would be as shaky as As, as a fiddler on the roof