Prologue: Tradition (Live)

"A fiddler on the roof. Sounds crazy, no? But in our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck. It isn't easy. You may ask, why do we stay up there if it's so dangerous? We stay because Anatevka is our home... And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word... Tradition."

Tradition, tradition... tradition
Tradition, tradition... tradition.

"Because of our traditions, we've kept our balance for many, many years. Here in Anatevka we have traditions for everything... how to eat, how to sleep, even, how to wear clothes. For instance, we always keep our heads covered and always wear a little prayer shawl... This shows our constant devotion to God. You may ask, how did this tradition start? I'll tell you - I don't know. But it's a tradition... Because of our traditions, everyone knows who he is and what God expects him to do."

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 the 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 son, the son! Tradition!
The son, the son! Tradition!

And who does Mama teach to mend and tend and fix
Preparing me to marry whoever Papa picks?

The daughter, the daughter! Tradition!
The daughter, the daughter! Tradition!