Uncle Pen

Oh, the people would come from far and away
They’d dance all night 'till the break of day
When the caller would holler «Do-si-do,»
You knew Uncle Pen was ready to go
Late in the evening about sun down
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, lord a how it’d ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
Oh, he played an old piece he called Soldier’s Joy
And he had one he called Boston Boy
The greatest of all was Ginny Lyn
To me that’s where the fiddlin begin
Oh, I’ll never forget that mournful day
When Uncle Pen was called away
They hung up his fiddle, they hung up his bow
You knew it was time for him to go