Strong rough hands seized the shiny wood

Carried her on stage and there she stood

Every time when she performed

The audience smiled or cried

But after years of cheers and fame

Her sound got old and died



Na, na, na, na

Na, na, na, na



Strong rough hands seized the shabby wood

Took here there, where she would stay for good

Her study was her destiny

Children used to say

You are still a queen for us

So teach us how to play



Na, na, na, na

Na, na, na, na