The fiddler grabbed the fiddle from it's case And lifted his bow towards the dawning Sunday sun Then the people of Hårga came in a hurry Forgot about God and the whole world
They danced over meadows and hills High upon the top of Hårga ridge One wore out both shoes and heels One could not stop the dance
Where do you come from, you who is playing Tell us who taught you such play, so wild and mad If you don't stop our hearts will burst Oh God preserve us, he has a cloven hoof!
The bells had rung in the valley, And father and mother and brother Walked to the parish church Where can Hårga's youth now be? Oh my God, they are still dancing!
They danced to the Hårga tune High upon the top of Hårga ridge They are not far from crying Dancing, they now wore out soul and body
Stop your bow, fiddler Before we dance our life, soul and bones away No he doesn't stop his dance Until we all fall dead downTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
