Download the song here: [link]
And the ONLY reason why the quality is so good is because a friend of mine has a professional recording studio, and I had to record this for a talent competition. It's his fault that this sounds so good, lol.
I came across this lovely poem several years ago. The moment I read it, I could hear the melody dancing in my head. This poem was BEGGING me to put it to music. So I did.
What I didn't know is that someone else had turned it into a song, too...a Christian artist by the name of Wayne Watson (sort of an 80's-90's version of Mark Schultz): [link]
I'd never heard his version before, so my arrangement sounds TOTALLY different lol.
I hope you like it!
Piano and vocals: Me
Guitar and violin: My momLyrics/poem:
Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought
It scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bid, good friends?" he cried,
"Who will start the bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar, then, two! Only two?
Two dollars, who'll make it three?
Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
And going for three . . ."
But no - from the room, far back,
A grey-haired man came forward
And he picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low, said:
"What am I bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
"Two thousand! Who'll make it three?
"Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice;
And going and going and gone!" said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand!
What changed its worth?"
Swift came the reply:
"Twas the Touch Of The Master's Hand."
And many a man with his life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A 'mess of pottage,' a glass of wine;
A game - and he travels on.
And he's 'going' once, and he's 'going' twice,
And he's 'going' and almost 'gone'.
But the Master comes and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought
By the touch of the Master's Hand
Just a touch of the Master's hand...