David Doucette

David Doucette


Cape Breton Brazilian Cowboy Music.

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After The Funeral

Written By: Davi Doucette

He handed me the violin
He slackened off the bow
He said it's all yours now
I won't play it no more
Your mother's gone
My heart is broke
I feel it in my hands
Do you think you might play it when you can?

But, Father dear, I'd rather not
It's too great a chore
I'm the one who travels and
I might be back no more
The wood you said is up around
A hundred years old
I fear I'll lose it where it is I go

That's all right
If it goes let it be gone
I'd rather see it played
Not hung up on a wall
And of all my daugthers
Of all my sons
It's in your hands
That music does belong

Well, I held it and remembered
All the baseball games
When the snow was a-howling
Or down came the rain
In the living room
We'd swing it at
Balled-up worksocks
The old chair was first base
A homerun to the clock

So I took it and I played it
In every country I went
In Singapore, Malaysia,
For the Taiwan government
In Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Tokyo, too
Where they like to give a bow Before arresting you

In Texas I played for the
People aboard the plane
They said, What's that son?
Could you play it once again?
In Chicago I played in the
Train Station hall
Where the dancers all missed
Their boarding calls

After the funeral
My fire burned low
I took out the violin
I rosined up the bow
After the funeral
With the big family gone
I played the strings
The whole night long

On Table Mountain, Capetown
I played in the dark
When I opened my eyes
The final car had embarked
I airports they asked
If I carried a Tommy Gun
Well if I do, boys,
I think you'd better run

But I'd always call him up
From where it was that I was at
He'd say, How's the fiddle
Coming along?
Do you mind that I ask?
Well, I play it everyday,
Like I promised too
And here's one that'll
Surely work your shoe

After the funeral
My fire burned low
I took out the violin
I rosined up the bow
After the funeral
With the big family gone
I played those strings
The whole night long

Then word finally came
When I was down in Brazil
They said, You'd better come home
Your father's very ill
I walked into his room
And a smile did I see
He was sinking low
And yet he knew me

Then the family gathered around
For the very final prayer
I said to my brother
Do you think that I might dare?
Play a little tune that he taught
Me as a child?
Well if you don't,
I think's he'd be awful wild

After the funeral
The skies turned cold
The wind picked up
The baromoter sank low
After the funeral
When the storm took hold
A tear fell for every flake of snow


Built a House (Youtube video)
After the Funeral (radio)

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