The fiddle is fiddling, the dulcimers play;                                   
While the bones keep the rhythm the spoons run away;
And the caller is calling the tune we adore,
To the Morningstar Waltz we all glide 'cross the floor.

We're dancing the Morningstar Waltz.
We're dancing the Morningstar Waltz.
We will dance 'til the music has come to an end,
Then we'll ask them to play it again.