| FIDDLER ON THE ROOF |
| PROLOGUE-TRADITION Tradition, tradition. Tradition! Tradition, tradition. Tradition! Who day and night must scramble for a living, Feed a wife and children, Say his daily prayers, And who has the right as master of the house To have the final word at home? The papa, the papa. Tradition! The papa, the papa. Tradition! Who must know the way to make a proper home, A quiet home, a kosher home, Who must raise a family and run the home So Papa's free to read the holy books? The mama, the mama. Tradition! The mama, the mama. Tradition! At three I started Hebrew school, at ten I learned a trade. I hear they've picked a bride for me, I hope she's pretty. The sons, the sons. Tradition! The sons, the sons. Tradition! And who does Mama teach to tend and mend and fix, Preparing me to marry whoever Papa picks? The daughters, the daughters. Tradition! The daughters, the daughters. Tradition! (All sing all above verses together) Tradition, tradition. Tradition! Tradition, tradition. Tradition! |
| MATCHMAKER Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match, Find me a find, catch me a catch. Matchmaker, matchmaker, look through your book And make me a perfect match. Matchmaker, matchmaker, I'll bring the veil, You bring the groom, slender and pale, Bring me a ring, for I'm longing to be The envy of all I see. For Papa, make him a scholar, For Mama, make him rich as a king, For me, well, I wouldn't holler If he were as handsome as anything. Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match, Find me a find, catch me a catch. Night after night in the dark I'm alone, So find me a match of my own. Since when are you interested in a match, Chava? I thought you just had your eyes on your books. And you have your eye on the rabbi's son! Well, why not? We have only one rabbi, he has only one son. Why shouldn't I want the best? Because you're a girl from a poor family. So whatever Yente brings, you'll take. Right? Of course right! Hodel, oh Hodel, have I made a match for you. He's handsome, he's young . . . all right, he's sixty-two, But he's a nice man, a good catch. True? True. I promise you'll be happy, and even if you're not, There's more to life than that. Don't ask me what. |
| Chava, I've found him, will you be a lucky bride! He's handsome, he's tall . . . that is, from side to side, But he's a nice man, a good catch. Right? Right. You've heard he has a temper, he'll beat you every night, But only when he's sober . . . so you're all right. Did you think you'd get a prince? Well, I do the best I can. With no dowry, no money, no family background, be glad you've got a man. Matchmaker, matchmaker, you know that I'm Still very young. Please, take your time. Up to this minute I misunderstood That I could get stuck for good. Dear Yente, see that he's gentle, Remember you were also a bride. It's not that I'm sentimental, It's just that I'm terrified. Matchmaker, matchmaker, plan me no plan, I'm in no rush, maybe I've learned Playing with matches a girl can get burned . . . So . . . bring me no ring, Groom me no groom, Find me no find, Catch me no catch, Unless he's a matchless match! |
| IF I WERE A RICH MAN Dear God, you made many, many poor people. I realize, of course, that it's no shame to be poor. But it's no great honor either. So what would have been so terrible if I'd had a small fortune? If I were a rich man, Yaha-deeuh-deeuh-deeuh-deeuh-deeuh-deeuh-dum, All day long I'd biddy-biddy-bum, If I were a wealthy man. I wouldn't have to work hard, Yaha-deeuh-buua-buua-buua-deeba-deeba-dum If I were a biddy-biddy-rich Yida-deeda-dida-dida-man. I'd build a big tall house with rooms by the dozen, Right in the middle of the town A fine tin roof with real wooden floors below. There could be one long staircase just going up, And one even longer coming down, And one more leading nowhere just for show. I'd fill my yard with chicks and turkeys and geese And ducks for the town to see and hear, Squawking just as noisily as they can. And each loud (prolonged squawk) Would land like a trumpet on the ear, As if to say, "Here lives a wealthy man." If I were a rich man, Yaha-deeuh-deeuh-deeuh-deeuh-deeuh-deeuh-dum, All day long I'd biddy-biddy-bum, If I were a wealthy man. I wouldn't have to work hard, Yaha-deeuh-buua-buua-buua-deeba-deeba-dum If I were a biddy-biddy-rich Yida-deeda-dida-dida-man. I see my wife, my Golde, looking like a rich man's wife, With a proper double-chin, Supervising meals to her heart's delight. I see her putting on airs and strutting like a peacock, Oy! what a happy mood she's in, Screaming at the servants day and night. The most important men in town will come to fawn on me, They will ask me to advise them, Like Solomon the Wise. (next page) |