Stephen Stills
Текст песни The Blind Fiddler

Traditional

I lost my eyes in a blacksmith shop in 1756
Working on a t-flange, 'twas in need of fix
It bounded from the tongs and there concealed my doom
I am a blind fiddler far from my home.

I have a wife and daughter depending on me
What good can I do them ? My God, I cannot see
................................................... upon my knees
I wander from one place to another my daily bread to win
I am a blind fiddler that's all I'll never be.

Round, round up and down all along the lonely town.