The Bluegrass Fiddler

Well I was walkin' around feelin' lost

Wonderin' what to do

Tourists everywhere

With no time to spare

I was feelin' lonesome and blue

I looked around in the paper

For the sights to see

It seemed a little absurd

I thought, oh my word

I'm goin' to a jamboree

She's the bluegrass fiddler of London

Up north in Kentish Town

For the music that's so fine

Head on up to the Vine

For a taste of that old-time sound

Now I got nothin' against the punk rockers,

The hot-town women with the belly button rings

But when I just got to let loose

I hop on the caboose

To listen to them old fiddle strings

She's the bluegrass fiddler of London

Up north in Kentish Town

For the music that's so fine

Head on up to the Vine

For a taste of that old-time sound

Soon I'll head back to Massachusetts

Though I'll be sorry to part

Now I loved that beans and toast

But what I'll remember most

Was how that fiddle warmed my lonely heart

She's the bluegrass fiddler of London

Up north in Kentish Town

For the music that's so fine

Head on up to the Vine

For a taste of that old-time sound