Moanings of a second fiddle

Fiddling should be for dancing.
For laughing and loving and playing.
For reminding of the joys of life.
And, in theory, 2 fiddles should be better than 1.
Unfortunately, what works at a barn dance does not translate as easily to life.
What happens when it has to be one or the other?
Do you take both or none or do you simply have to choose?

It's hurts to realize that, at some point, the tune changed.
Somewhere along the line, somebody changed their mind.
Maybe a string broke and nobody noticed until too late.
Or maybe the bow just needed more rosin.
Whatever the problem, no matter how easily fixable,
the dancers are waiting, toes tapping impatiently....
And the second fiddle has been ready and waiting to pounce on just such an opportunity.
And while the second one seems new and unused, it's not. Just different.
The old one has played it's heart out and really only needs a good tuning and maybe a new set of strings.
But it's easier to just make the switch.
This way you don't have to miss a beat.
Everything keeps moving and everyone keeps dancing.
And now there's a new second fiddle.
Tired and worn and laying in the case.
Waiting for the day when someone realizes that, without much work at all, it can again make the people laugh and dance and play.
But until then, being a second fiddle really sucks.