This old violin
of 200 years
was in pieces
and now plays like new
I wish that I could do that too

How many hands
spidered down
your strings
until they'd cramp
While you remained a genie's lamp

Did you ever
drown in the sea
of an orchestra
until no one
heard you sing skip and run

I wish that
all the things
you've heard
music that you bring
were stored like water in a spring

I would drink
and feel the wind
of generations
go around and round
And hear the lifetimes in your sound

Smell the earth
where your wood grew
Fire in your finish
Before you were new
Know the tension of curves and hue

Now you're silent
your master's gone
at the peak
of your marriage
Your new player is still in her carriage

of 200 years
was in pieces
and now plays like new
I wish that I could do that too
How many hands
spidered down
your strings
until they'd cramp
While you remained a genie's lamp

Did you ever
drown in the sea
of an orchestra
until no one
heard you sing skip and run

I wish that
all the things
you've heard
music that you bring
were stored like water in a spring

I would drink
and feel the wind
of generations
go around and round
And hear the lifetimes in your sound

Smell the earth
where your wood grew
Fire in your finish
Before you were new
Know the tension of curves and hue

Now you're silent
your master's gone
at the peak
of your marriage
Your new player is still in her carriage