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 Now he could play most anything And some say he could sing But the one thing that he liked to best Was sawing on the strings So get out the fiddle and rosin up the bow Look at ole Will a pattin' his toe We'll make music 'til the rafters ring Old man pickin' sawin' on the strings 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 comes down from the mountain All the gals begin to sway Sometimes he'd pick that old 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 rafers ring Old man pickin' and sawin' on the strings So tune up the five string, tighten up the hide Tell all the young folds to get inside We'll make music 'til the rafters ring Old man pickin' and sawin' on the strings