Bill Monroe
180426272.gif

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

You knew Uncle Pen was ready to go



Late in the evening about sundown

High on the hill above the town

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring

You could hear it talk, you could 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



Late in the evening about sundown

High on the hill above the town

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring

You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing



I'll never forget that mournful day

When Uncle Pen was called away

They hung up his fiddle, they hung up his bow

They knew it was time for him to go



Late in the evening about sundown

High on the hill above the town

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring

You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing



Late in the evening about sundown

High on the hill above the town

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring

You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing


Mirror lyrics:

You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring

High on the hill above the town

Late in the evening about sundown



You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring

High on the hill above the town

Late in the evening about sundown



They knew it was time for him to go

They hung up his fiddle, they hung up his bow

When Uncle Pen was called away

I'll never forget that mournful day



You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring

High on the hill above the town

Late in the evening about sundown



To me that's where the fiddle begins

The greatest of all was 'Jenny Lynn'

And the one called 'The Boston Boy'

He played an old piece, he called 'Soldier's Joy'



You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring

High on the hill above the town

Late in the evening about sundown



You knew Uncle Pen was ready to go

When the caller hollered do-se-do

They'd dance all night till the break of day

Oh, the people would come from far away


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