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