A Nickel For The Fiddler

It's a nickel for the fiddler It's a nickel for his tune It's a nickel for the tambourine kind of afternoon And it's a high holiday on the twenty-first of June And it's country music in the park And everybody's ruined It's fountains full of dogs and kids And it's streaky apple pie It's the ones who came to play And the ones just passin' by It's coats of many colors And it almost makes me cry It's ice cream on a stick And it's somethin' you can’t buy It's a fiddler from Kentucky Who swears he's eighty three And he's fiddled every contest From here to Cripple Creek It's old ones and it's young ones And it's plain they have agreed And it's country music in the park As far as they can see