he was standing in some tiny town on fair prince edward island waiting for a ship to come and find him a one horse place a friendly face some coffee and a tiny trace of fiddling in the distance far behind them a dime across the counter then a shy hello a brand new friend a walk along the street in the wint ry weather a yellow light an open door a welcome friend there s room for more soon they re standing there inside together he said i heard that tune before somewhere but i can t remember when was it on some other friendly shore did i hear it on the wind was it written on the sky above i think i heard it from someone i love but i never heard it sound so sweet since then now his feet begin to tap a little boy says i ll take your hat he s caught up in the magic of his smile then leaps the heart inside him when on and off across the floor he sends his clumsy body graceful as a child he says there s magic in the fiddler s arms there s magic in this town there s magic in the dancers feet and the way they put them down smiling people everywhere boots and ribbons and locks of hair laughter and old blue suits and easter gowns now the sailor s gone the room is bare the old piano s sitting there someone s hat s left hanging on the rack some empty chairs a wooden floor that feels the touch of shoes no more waiting for the dancers to come back and the fiddle s in the closet of some daughter of the town the strings are broke the bow is gone and the case is buttoned down but often on december nights when the air is cold and the wind is right for the melody comes passing through this town