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