Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense Who say that music reckon that the kantele Was fashioned by God Out of a great pike's shoulders From a water-dog's hooked bones: It was moulded from sorrow It's belly out of hard days Its sound board from endless woes Its strings gathered from torments And it pegs from other ills Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense It's belly out of hard days It's sound board from endless woes Its strings gathered from torments And it pegs from other ills Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense