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.
