He played a fiddle
with a wicked smile
She sang a number
with a contralto

Fiddles have to be put down
to hold a bottle,
Talent can’t mask
a lonely heart

He lost reality
She lost her other half
They found each other
where people hide

They wrote a song
that hurt to sing
she had others,
just as sad

Last songs mean
an end to the dance
so this one had
to be sold

New players couldn’t
read the notes
the music was given back
To the writers

He nursed the bottle
to the grave
She faked the note
until it cracked