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 till the rafters ring

Ol' man pickin' and a sawing on the string

When the neighbors 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 begin 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 till the rafters ring

Ol' man 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 till the rafters ring

Ol' man pickin' and a sawing on the string