The Strings That Bind

Let The Music Play On When I am melancholy And feeling, all alone I place my violin On my shoulder, like a phone Then start a conversation In melodic overtones and every string that speaks to me Brings me closer back to home I can smell the coffee brewing There're hotcakes on the griddle And Gram-pa in the corner Strumming lightly on His fiddle And now that fiddle's mine He passed it on to me So I could find my way back home Wherever I may be One day I’ll have a child May be, a He or She I hope they'll learn its language And treat it patiently And take it safely with them Wherever they may roam ‘Cause all they have to do is play To find there way back home