leonard played the violin
a virtuoso, he
until the man vacationed
near the west atlantic sea
one day while he was wading
he received a nasty jab
he found that he'd been grappled
by the fearsome fiddler crab
it changed his whole persona
and the music that he played
sophisticated sweepings
into barnyard noises swayed
his silken black tuxedo
was replaced by overalls
and the operatic solos
were redressed as cattle calls
his top hat now a straw hat
and his oxfords, muddy boots
he distanced from vivaldi
pappy sherrill in cahoots
his cantatas and concertos
were just features in refrain
his instrument now whooping
like the whistle of a train
and that ol' orange blossom special
came a-roarin' down the track
and berwald and torelli
both were taken quite aback
his friends and his relations
thought that leonard had gone mad
for he changed his name to lester
wearing shirts of checkered plaid
and the concert halls he'd played in
were replaced by barns of red
and the ghost of papa haydn
had stampeded from his head
no white hanky in his pocket
but a crimson handkerchief
a belt buckle big as texas
and a corn cob clenched in teeth
but he still plays with precision
with his bow at lightning speed
but the fruits of his endeavors
some would say have gone to seed
for he rides a old hay wagon
when he used to cruise in cabs
how sad when a violinist
is attacked by fiddler crabs
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