Miss Trudy

I was about 7 when I first started having violin lessons.
One minute she was fine, the next she started throwing her violins across the room.

Miss Trudy, she teaches all the girls to sing
Miss Trudy, she teaches the violin
But when the girls turned into pretty, pretty things she
Dried her eyes and cried.

Miss Trudy, she smashed up all her violins
Miss Trudy, she taught all the girls to sing

And when she cries, she cries for only her
The remains of twenty wooden violins scattered across the floor

And when she cries, she cries only for her
Her teardrops fall on my violin on the floor
Miss Trudy, at least you taught the girls to sing.