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releventchair said:


Uncle Pen​

Bill Monroe
Oh, the people would come from far away
They danced all night 'til 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'd hear it talk, you'd hear it sing
He played an old piece he called 'Soldier's Joy'
And the one he 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 and above the town
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring
You'd hear it talk, you'd hear it sing
Oh 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 and above the town
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lord, how it would ring
You'd hear it talk, you'd hear it sing
Uncle Pen
Thank you, thank you, thank you
Thank you
Songwriters: Bill Monroe. For non-commercial use only.
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Singers need an iron stomach and no sense of smell. First of all, the mikes always smell like bad breath. Never did figure out how to get rid of the smell. But to come together at the same mike and not flinch at the other person’s breath, now that’s a performance.
 

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