(Bachman/Cummings)



A little boy sat crying on the floor

His daddy won't be coming home no more

He cannot reason why

His daddy had to die

And the Minstrel Boy's not singing any more.



So play violin, play

Play 'til the night is over

Music will wash away all your sorrow.



At seventeen he thought he'd never cry

And then his angel had to say goodbye

But living must go on

To face another dawn

And the Minstrel Boy's not singing any more.



So play violin, play

Play 'til the night is over

Music will wash away all your sorrow.



A moment later, life was just a dream

Remembering the things he'd done and seen

He now can reason why

He soon will have to die

And the Minstrel Boy's not singing any more.

And the Minstrel Boy's not singing any more.