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