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Sawing On the Strings
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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 sawin' 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 till the rafters ring All that pickin' and a-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 he comes down from the mountain All the gals began to sway


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