Island 
Waiting for a ship to come and find him 
A one horse place, a friendly face 
Some coffee and a tiny trace of fiddling in the 
distance far behind him 
A dime across the counter there, a shy hello, a brand 
new friend 
And a walk along the street in wintry weather 
A yellow light, and open door 
A welcome friend there's room for more 
And then they're standing there inside together 
He said, "I've heard that tune before somewhere 
But I can't remember when. 
Was it on some other friendly shore, or did I hear it 
on the wind? 
Was it written on the sky above, think I heard it from 
someone I loved. 
I never heard a sound so sweet since then." 

And now his feet begin to tap, a little boy says, "I'll 
take your hat" 
And he's caught up in the magic of her smile 
Leap, the heart inside him went, and off across the 
floor he sent 
His clumsy body graceful as a child 
He said, "There's magic in the fiddler's arm, and 
there's magic in this town. 
There's magic in the dancers' feet and the way they put 
them down. 
People smiling everywhere, boots and ribbons, locks of 
hair 
And laughter and old blue suits and Easter gowns 

The sailor's gone, the room is bare, the old piano's 
sitting there 
Someone's hat's left hanging on the rack 
Empty chairs and the wooden floor, that feels the touch 
of shoes no more 
A waiting for the dancers to come back 
The fiddle's in the closet of some daughter of the town 
The strings are broke, the bow is gone, and the cover's 
buttoned down 
But sometimes on December nights, when the air is cold 
and the wind is right 
There's a melody that passes through the town