As the daylight goes down on the brae, As the west gives its gold all away, There are candles to soften the night, And the neighbours come in to the light. With the tables all groaning with cheer, And old friends greet the ones they hold dear. And then every head turns to the door, For the night has its heart back once more. No lady born, no wealth, no fame, Few beyond these hills know her name. Yet every heart begins to stir The moment that we call for her. Call for a fiddler — call for three, Waken the hall with a melody. Lift up the bow and carry us on, Till every last sorrow is gone. Let the pipes go and shake the whole glen — And the fiddle will call us home again. Round they go turning from wall to wall — The fiddler has gathered us one and all. She played as wedding vows were made, While maids beneath the flowers swayed. She played as children learned to dance, And young hearts found their first romance. At the harvest round the steaming fare, Her music floated through the air. The toast was raised, the glasses high, Her reels beneath the rafters fly. Call for a fiddler — call for three, Wake the hall with melody. Lift the bow and lead us on, Till every sorrow's come and gone. Let the pipes go shake the whole glen — The fiddle brings us home again. Round the floor, from wall to wall — The fiddler gathers us one and all. She played beside the harbour wall As sons and daughters heard the call; The sails went white, the shore went grey, Her tune went with them all the way. She played the slow airs, soft and low, When tears were all the words we'd know. She taught us joy, she taught us grace — One tune could heal an aching place. Kings may wear their crowns of gold, Heroes' names and tales of old. Yet every age remembers free The call for fiddlers — one, two, three. One bow can lift a weary soul, One tune can make the broken whole. When voices join in sweet accord, Her music is our true reward. Call for the fiddler — call for three, Waken the hall with a melody. So raise up your voice and raise up your glass, Hold every one of these moments fast. Though the night must fade away, Still the tune will find its way. And when these hands are stilled and old, Let others take the bow to hold — While one faithful fiddle plays, Every heart...forever stays
