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 and 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
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