Det var i gamle dager
Han far hadde fått seg lønn
Nå skulle'n dra til byen
Og kjøpe seg ei fele

Han dro tel musikkhandler'n
Plukka ut den gjeveste
Penga var det dårlig med
Men femogtjue kroner hadde'n med

Han øvde lenge, lengre og hardt
Med felespell og dans skulle'n komma langt
Ja han øvde lenge, lengre og hardt
Med felespell og dans kunne'n få betalt

Han spelte på bydgefest
Og det brygga opp tel dans
Men hva han ikke ante
var at presten var til gards

Og Presten ropte stopp
Men far lot fela gå
Da blei'n høgd av øret
Og slåtten den nå utdøde

Det vakke siste gangen
Han spelte opp til dans
Men alltid presten høgde
Og alltid slåtten døde

Men den ene gangen
Da fela sang så fint
Da reiv'n tjukkeste strengen ta
Og kvælte presten kald

Det var gamle fela
Som sang så fint og freskt
Til mangt den kunne brukes
Gjerne kvæla prest

Om du hører slåtten gå
Og presten er til gards
Så s___t du ei å spelle
Men vis ham felas kraft

Det var i gamle dager
Ja fela etter'n far
Hadde vønni kampen
Mellom prestesvin og kar

Den gamle fela speller
Like godt den dag i dag
Freske toner troner
Ut ta spellemannens gard

Translation:

PLAY THE FIDDLE DAD

It was in the old days
Dad had received his salary
So he wanted to go to the town
And buy a fiddle

He went to the music instrument's
Chose the most expensive
Money weren't that much
But he had twenty-five crowns

He practised long and hardly
Playing the fiddle and with the dance he could live on
Yes, he practised long and hardly
Playing the fiddle and with the dance he could make out a living

At the town fest he played
Dances begun
But what he didn't know
Was that the priest was at home

That b_____ priest shouted stop
But dad kept on playing
So he hit him right on the ear
And the music silenced dead

It wasn't the last time
That he played for dance
But the b_____ priest hit
And the music always died

But one time
When the fiddle played really well
He pulled off the thickest string
And strangled to death the priest

It was the old fiddle
That played freshly and nicely
It could be used for many things
Overall to choke the priest

If you hear the music go
And the priest is at home
Don't stop playing
But show him the fiddle's power

It was in the old days
Yes, play the fiddle dad
He had won the challenge
Between the pig-priest and the boy

The old fiddle plays
Likewise good still today
Fresh tunes reign
In the musician's farm

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