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

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