The Tale of An Old Violin

There she stands, an old violin She has no string and no bow Who would want such an old violin Is what everyone wants to know. She is scratched up and battered, Broken, used up and torn She has seen better days but now she stands Wanted by absolutely no one. This violin had once been new And shining like the sun She played the sweetest music And was loved by everyone. But she had no special musician So she was passed from hand to hand Amateurs and pros both played her Sometimes solo, sometimes in a band Sometimes she’d go out of tune But someone would come and tune her And every time her strings were tuned Her music became sweeter Some musicians loved her And were the ones who played her best Others never learned to hold her properly Cause they just couldn’t care less With lack of care her vanish peeled Her strings began to rust The less her players cared for her The more she filled with dust. A violin once loved and cherished Now sitting in a corner Dirty and broken, no one sees her worth And now nobody wants her. “Sure she’s beautiful”, some musicians say “But she’s old and broken and I rather Get a brand new violin”. One or two tried to play her But her strings they couldn’t tune Some saw her as valuable But they already had their own A few people tried to tune her But they pulled her strings too tight So no matter how hard they tried She never sounded quite right. Her strings began to wear out And they all burst one by one Her bow broke in half one day Her players each said “I’m done” Her body is decorated with the names Of everyone who’s ever touched her Her pegs are pulled out, her fingerboard broken Her music is silenced forever This violin once loved and played By hundreds of men and women Now sits in a corner broken and forgotten Never to be played again So there she stands, this old violin Who once meant the world to someone Now all alone and abandoned Her music is dead and gone.