Sawing on the Strings

Way back in the mountains
 Way back in the hills
 There used to live a mountaineer
 They called him Fiddlin' Will
 He could play most anything
 And some say he could sing
 But the one thing that he liked to do best
 Was sawing on the strings
 So get out the fiddle
 And rosin' up the bow
 Look at ol' Will a-pattin' his toe
 We'll make music 'til the rafters ring
 All that pickin' and a-sawin' on the strings
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 When the neighbours had a shindig
 And they all had vittles to eat
 We'd always have to wait on Will
 For the frolic to be complete
 When he comes down from the mountain
 All the gals began to sway
 Sometimes he'd pick that ol' five-string
 Until the break of day
 So tune up the five-string
 Tighten up the hide
 Tell all the young folks to get inside
 We'll make music 'til the rafters ring
 All them pickin' and a-sawing on the string
 ♪
 So tune up the five-string
 Tighten up the hide
 Tell all the young folks to get inside
 We'll make music 'til the rafters ring
 All them pickin' and a-sawing on the string