歌词
Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense.
Who say that music, reckon that the kantele
Was fashioned by a god
Out of a great pike's shoulders
From a water-dog's hooked bones
It was made from the sorrow
♪
It's belly out of hard days
The soundboard from endless woes
It's strings gathered from torments
And it is pegs from other ills
Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense
♪
So it will not play, will not rejoice at all
Music will not play