Sawing on the Strings
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Way back in the mountains, way back in the hills
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There used to live a mountaineer, they called him Fiddlin' Will
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He could play most anything and some say he could sing
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But the one thing that he liked to do best was sawin' on the strings
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So get out the fiddle, rosin up the bow
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Look at ol' Will, a-pattin' his toe
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He'll make music 'til the rafters ring
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Ol' man pickin' an' sawin' on the strings
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When the neighbors had a shindig, an' they all had vittles to eat
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We always had to wait on Will for the frolic to be complete
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When he comes down from the mountains all the gals begin to sway
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Sometimes he pick that old five-string, until the break of the day
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So tune up the five-string, tighten up the hide
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Tell all the young folks to get inside
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He'll make music 'til the rafters ring
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Ol' man pickin' an' sawin' on the strings
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So tune up the five-string, tighten up the hide
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Tell all the young folks to get inside
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He'll make music til the rafters ring
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Ol' man pickin' an' sawin' on the strings
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Sawing on the Strings
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| Alison Krauss |
