When God plays his fiddle
We dance to his tune,
From noon till midnight,
From midnight till noon.

When God plays his fiddle
The music he plays
Will make the world dance
to the end of its days.

When God plays his fiddle
With its bitter sweet-tone,
We all dance together,
We all dance alone.

When God plays his fiddle,
We both laugh and weep;
We dance when awake.
We dance when we sleep.

When God plays his fiddle,
We dance to our fates,
While the Devil sits by
And watches, and waits.

I’m not sure what I was thinking about when I wrote this poem several years ago; but it has a sense of forboding which seems very appropriate to the times we are now living through.