Oh, the people would come from far away
They'd dance all night till the break of day
When the caller hollered "Do-se-do"
He knew Uncle Pen was ready to go.
CHORUS: Late in the evenin' about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, oh how it would ring
You can hear it talk, you can hear it sing.
He played an old piece he called "Soldier's Joy"
And the one called "The Boston Boy"
The greatest of all was "Jenny Lynn"
To me that's where the fiddle begins.
I'll never forget that mournful day
When Uncle Pen was called away
They hung up his fiddle, hung up his bow
They knew it was time for him to go.
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