David Mallett Dulcimer
I'm headin' out of New York town on some old number nine
Up north the Hudson's wild and the sun begins to shine
High noon, high tide, six string partner by my side
I don't think I ever had a better ride. Or at least I can't recall one
Two wholesome lookin' ladies two rows back behind
A pickin' on a dulcimer and the sound is soft and fine
Business man, Dapper Dan, grandpa with his tired old hands
He has done the best he can and we all must do the same
And the music from the dulcimer is a sad and simple strain
And somewhere in my soul I know that God is on this train
I guess I should be somewhere else but where I just don't know
Where the women dance and sing, and where the softer breezes blow
Where the grass is always green and the old folks don't grow old
But for now I'll ride and bide my time down here below
And a sweet, sweet voice is singing, and as I strain to hear
The music from the dulcimer is washin' down like beer
The world of man sits and stands right here before my eyes
I see a young man warrior bound and I hear a young girl's sighs
And I see a couple lost in love and the old conductor stands above them
Tickets please, this ride's not free, six hours to Montreal