Det var i gamle dager
Han far hadde ftt seg lnn
N skulle'n dra til byen
Og kjpe seg ei fele
Han dro tel musikkhandler'n
Plukka ut den gjeveste
Penga var det drlig med
Men femogtjue kroner hadde'n med
Han vde lenge, lengre og hardt
Med felespell og dans skulle'n komma langt
Ja han vde lenge, lengre og hardt
Med felespell og dans kunne'n f betalt
P bydgefest han spelte
Det brygga opp tel dans
Men hva han ikke visste
Var at presten var til gards
Prestejvelen ropte stopp
Men far lot fela g
Da blei'n hgd av ret
Og sltten den n utdde
Det vakke siste gangen
Han spelte opp til dans
Men prestejvelen hgde
Og alltid sltten dde
Men den ene gangen
Da fela sang s fint
Da reiv'n tjukkeste strengen ta
Og kvlte presten kald
Det var gamle fela
Som sang s fint og freskt
Til mangt den kunne brukes
Gjerne kvla prest
Om du hrer sltten g
Og presten er til gards
S slutt du ei spelle
Men vis ham felas kraft
Det var i gamle dager
Ja fela etter'n far
Hadde vnni kampen
Mellom prestesvin og kar
Den gamle fela speller
Like godt den dag i dag
Freske toner troner
Ut ta spellemannens gard
[English translation:]
Play The Fiddle Dad
It was in the old days
Dad had received his salary
So he wanted to go to the town
And buy a fiddle
He went to the music instrument's
Chose the most expensive
Money weren't that much
But he had twenty-five crowns
He practised long and hardly
Playing the fiddle and with the dance he could live on
Yes, he practised long and hardly
Playing the fiddle and with the dance he could make out a living
At the town fest he played
Dances begun
But what he didn't know
Was that the priest was at home
That bloody priest shouted stop
But dad kept on playing
So he hit him right on the ear
And the music silenced dead
It wasn't the last time
That he played for dance
But the bloody priest hit
And the music always died
But one time
When the fiddle played really well
He pulled off the thickest string
And strangled to death the priest
It was the old fiddle
That played freshly and nicely
It could be used for many things
Overall to choke the priest
If you hear the music go
And the priest is at home
Don't stop playing
But show him the fiddle's power
It was in the old days
Yes, play the fiddle dad
He had won the challenge
Between the pig-priest and the boy
The old fiddle plays
Likewise good still today
Fresh tunes reign
In the musician's farm
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
