One night she went up to the fairy thorn

                           In the wee small hours before the dawn

                           In search of magic, in search of song

                           In search of Willie Hall's fiddle

                          She called out to the spirit who lived in the thorn

                          She said I've been away for far too long

                          She said I've been searching since the day I was born

                         Can you lead me to Willie Hall's fiddle?

                    And there appeared in the heart of the fairy thorn

                         As if by magic from the heart-wood drawn

                               Deep in the branches of the fairy thorn

                                   The shape of Willie Hall's fiddle

                        And she said I've been away for far too long

                          Can you teach me how to play Willie Hall's song?

                            Teach me to play it like I belong

                              Teach me to play Willie's fiddle?

         And she and the spirit spent the rest of that night

        In the mist-haunted meadow before it was light

        Calling tunes from the fiddle that was lost for too long

        Filling the meadow with Willie Hall's song

       And when the dawn curled her fingers round the fairy thorn

       She awoke in the meadow to a dew-drenched morn

       With her heart on fire and her soul alight

       With the dance and the song that had filled the night

        If you ever go up to the fairy thorn

        In the wee small hours before the dawn

        If you ever go up to the fairy thorn

        You'll be sure to hear Willie Hall's fiddle.