A Nickel For The Fiddler

It s a nickel for the fiddler

It s a nickel for his tune

It s a nickel for the tambourine kind of afternoon

And it s a high holiday on the twenty-first of June

And it s country music in the park

And everybody s ruined


It s fountains full of dogs and kids

And it s streaky apple pie

It s the ones who came to play

And the ones just passin by


It s coats of many colors

And it almost makes me cry

It s ice cream on a stick

And it s somethin you can t buy


It s a fiddler from Kentucky

Who swears he s eighty three

And he s fiddled every contest

From here to Cripple Creek


It s old ones and it s young ones

And it s plain they have agreed

And it s country music in the park

As far as they can see